


R3: RECODE, REBOOT, REMEMBER

by GalaxyAfterDark



Category: Original Work
Genre: Androids, Cyberpunk, Domestic Violence, Gore, Hacking, Murder, Robot/Human Relationships, Robots, Sexual Content, Sho - Freeform, Smoking, TJT, Violence, cyberspace, holograms, neon noire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:21:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 35,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26297821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyAfterDark/pseuds/GalaxyAfterDark
Summary: There's no glitch too big for TJT to fix. Using his intrinsic gifts as a jailbroken android, it's his job to fix the bugs major intelligence companies like the IIC leave in their robots. However, a new and ravenous infliction has been spreading fast among his android brethren. It speaks to him with an echo of a past he knows nothing of, so he finds he must return his home in the Black District to ask his Madam for help. However, the two of them soon find themselves caught in a tangle of lies left behind by a woman's mysterious disappearance, a detective's hunt to solver her cold case, an android that knows more than they are willing to say, and a man pulling the cables to bring them together. Will TJT manage to catch the virus that is driving the androids of Hyryse to madness? Or will he be consumed by it?R3: RECODE, REBOOT, REMEMBER is an expanded NaNoWriMo story of 2018 written by GalaxyAfterDark on Twitter! Most chapters for this story are finished and will be posted after thorough editing. This is a first time for posting writing online, so I hope you enjoy it!
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

The water was almost to a near boil. The leaves were perfectly blended and gently tapped into a tea ball. His guest was sitting patiently in the other room, a large silhouette cast against the rice paper of the sliding door. “You know, it’s been quite some time since I’ve had any guests. Especially ones as different as you,” the old man spoke in Japanese. “Hachi has been my only friend for so long. It is strange to have someone else sitting in his seat.”

Hiroshi added the tea ball to the water, using the touch dial of his meek electric stove to set it to low heat. He sighed heavily, turning back to look at the shadow. His guest had not moved for a long while, still as quiet as he had been when they came to his home. There was a deep pause, only the soft bubbling of boiling water and drizzling rain breaking the silence. In the distance, he could hear a train humming, same time as it always had so close to his little home.

“It was very kind of you to make such an arduous journey here. If he could, Hachi would be thanking you right now,” he continued, despite the lack of response. “We’re so far below the city and it’s hard for me to travel there. Tickets alone have become so expensive. Other technicians have told me there’s not enough signal out here for them to do their work, either. Imagine, all this technology in the world that something like that could keep someone from doing their job. Not that they would even give any time for my poor Hachi.” 

He earned the response of an acknowledgment, a hum coming from his guest. The old man smiled and sat down on a wooden stool to wait for the tea to steep. Despite the silence suspended between the two of them, the old man felt at ease with this stranger in his home. The way he approached the old man at first made him feel apprehensive, but the way the stranger picked up and cradled Hachi told Hiroshi that he was in good hands.

He pressed his thumbs into his palms to ease the ache of his arthritis. “They told me just to throw him away. Just replace him with a new model,” he went on with his one-sided conversation. “I... I could never do that to my dear friend. He is... he belonged to my daughter, you see, and he has grown so smart these past years. Hachi is so much like my Shiho.”

His voice had grown wilted as he stared at the many crevices and cracks in his wooden floor. Once upon a time they would squeak and creak under fast feet, play chasing his daughter throughout the small home. But now it was a long lost sound, and it grew so faint in the decades. It still ached to think about those fading moments. Hachi’s little boots padding around was the closest thing and it soothed his frail heart.

In the small kitchen stood a modest shrine, adorned with a small battery-powered hologram the lit up with his daughter’s face. He clasped his hands and bowed his head. Prayer was all he could offer at this time while his visitor did their work. It was a risk trying to find the stranger and there was a lot of money that was riding on the quality of his work. But if there was even a fraction of a chance that this would work, the old man was ready to sacrifice it all to save his little friend.

A tiny timer shaped like a small frog started to chirp, indicating that seven minutes had passed since the tea was set. The old man groaned when he stood up slowly and shuffled back to the stove. He was careful to move the pot to the counter, the pot shaking slightly in his weak hands. He turned to his near bare cupboard to fetch two cups and a clean serving plate. He paused when he retrieved a glass, noticing the small chip and crack in one of the cups. 

It was the same cup he had dropped to the floor when he had read that unforgiving letter slipped under his door. He knew Shiho must’ve have been busy with her work. But he never thought that sickness would consume her. He hadn’t even heard a word from her since she had left home. He was left without any condolence for his loss, no idea when or where her funeral was, and only the empty letter that ripped his world apart.

He couldn’t eat or sleep, let alone clean his home while he was grieved. He would never allow his daughter’s memorial picture and shrine to go unclean and often spent hours just staring at her picture. Shiho was gone and there was no bringing her back. So all he could do when he sat in front of the picture and asked ‘Why?’

The old man had avoided her room ever since he heard the news, not wanting to interfere with her precious space. But in the weeks that passed the loneliness eventually won out, so he braved the line and crossed into her room. He wanted to surround the house with her things, to make it feel like she was still there. He made quick movements to gather her well-worn books and a few of her favorite trinkets. A toy dog with bells on its ears escaped his shaking grasp, and rolled under her desk. The old man had knelt down to retrieve the item. That was the moment with his hand traced over the cool glass face of her little friend, Hachi.

The little thing was a clunky, head too big for his little body with oversize feet and stubby hands. He was made to be cute and desirable, making him a popular toy in her school. Birthdays would pass when she begged him for one of these robots, reasoning that she could use it to study and learn from. He didn’t quite believe her reason for wanting it, but it didn’t deter him from working overtime to get it for her.

At first, Hiroshi assumed that Shiho’s fawning would only be a passing interest. She would predictably outgrow him and leave him behind as most children did with their toys. However, she kept coming home with thick books and scribbled notes from school, sitting side by side with Hachi with cables sticking out of the back of his neck. He would catch her up late at night, slumped over her desk with her sleeping face pressed to her keyboard. All the while there was Hachi, surrounded by her studies. 

Hiroshi didn’t understand why she was so intrigued by how the toy worked and spoke, but he didn’t dissuade her from her continuous interest. One morning after the toy had been with them for months, he spotted it in the kitchen. He found the little stool and was standing by the sink. With the few dishes that were in it, the little robot was picking them up and pretending to wash them. 

He was astonished and called out to Shiho to witness it. Hachi slowly turned his head to him, blinking a few times before pointing at the old man. Or at least, past the old man. “Shi-hoooo,” he chirped, dragging the word out. He turned around to see his daughter behind him. Her face lit up and she clapped excitedly, running up to Hachi and hugging him tightly. It was the first word they ever said outside of their preprogrammed vocabulary. He couldn’t forget how her face beamed so brightly to him. There was a whole future for her in that smile alone.

Remembering that moment made the old man’s chest ache. She was so proud of the work she had poured into making the little toy do more than what was expected of him. If he could just capture a little bit of that magic again. Holding Hachi close to his chest, he let himself relive that moment just a little longer.

Whether it was a slight of his hand or pressing one of the many buttons on his back, Hachi sprung to life in the old man’s hands. Bright blue digital eyes blinking and acting as if they had been asleep for a long time, Hachi immediately reached up to hug the old man. Hiroshi was startled by him and dropped him on the floor. He watched as Hachi shook his little head, turn over to stand up, then began to wander the room. The small bot was looking around with worried eyes, looking under the bed, in the closet, and wherever his little hands could reach. “Shi...ho?” he asked Hiroshi with a hopeful beep.

He couldn’t say what had happened to her, but the silence seemed to reach Hachi more than he expected. Suddenly Hachi was like a lost and confused child. Between the two of them, this moment felt like they had lost Shiho all over again. He scooped the little robot in his arms and held him tight, mourning their connected loss together.

He ran his thumb over the broken cup, letting the memory wash away before setting it on the tray with the other. He carefully poured the fresh tea, only a few drops lost in his shaky grip. The liquid in the cup rippled softly as the train from before got closer, humming miles above his home. Hiroshi’s guest had been there for quite some time, so he hoped some tea would be a pleasant treat. “Tea is ready,” he called out.

The old man steadied himself to pick up the tray and shuffled to the sliding door. “I apologize for not offering something to drink sooner,” he said as he opened the door with his food. “I was so enamored by your work that I’m afraid I was distracted. It is a blend from my personal garden and it’s not often I get to present it.” He closed the door behind him and turned to his guest. The second his blurry eyes landed on the person kneeling at the table, the old man felt abashed with shame.

“Oh... Oh, what a great fool I am,” he cursed himself. He sat the tray down on the table and knelt on the pillow beside his guest. “A foolish old man I am. When I saw your face at first... It completely slipped my mind that it wasn’t your real face. This tea would be completely useless to you, wouldn’t it?” 

He stared at the reddish-brown liquid and motioned to get back up to dump it. He was stopped when cold segmented metal fingers grasped his thin wrist. It was a painless grip that gently encouraged him to stay seated. The old man didn’t resist the motion and settled back on his cushion. “You... wish to have it?” he asked. “Truly you are too kind to an old man. You are nothing like your handler said you were.”

The old man took the tea and placed it in a scratched blue metal hand, watching as he carefully grasped the cup. Hiroshi held his own tea and watched in silence as his guest worked. Needless to say, even as he sat completely still, they were a wonder for the eyes to look at. In comparison to Hachi the toy, what sat before the old man was a much more marvelous complex piece of humanoid machinery. 

His guest appeared formative, much taller than himself, though held together with many different parts. He wore crisp white clothing with a collared pink shirt underneath that hid the rest of his metal body. There was a quiet clicking coming from them, their parts working in tandem to keep them upright and working. Various thick tubes and metal rods made their neck, creating an illusion of thickness. His sleeves had been rolled up to the elbow to show two different styles of limbs. His right hand was colored in shining blue while the left was a rusted red.

A mess of multiple wires was tied up neatly at the base of his metal skull, all in different colors and outputs. His face was the oddest part of him. When Hiroshi had greeted him at the door, his guest had a man’s face. It was a tired face surrounded by a mass of thick black hair and stubble dotting around his chin and jaw. His guest appeared shabby and unkempt, and for a brief moment, Hiroshi thought that this wasn’t the man he was expecting.

The stranger stepped inside his home, just as the rain began falling harder. Water dripping from the edge of the roof fell on his cheek, but to Hiroshi’s astonishment, it went  _ through.  _ The stranger’s face buzzed and glitched in spectacular colors, then vanished in fading pixels. Underneath was his true face split right down the middle. The right half made of scratched and rusted metal with a round camera for eye glowing red. On the left was a black glass that meshed with the metal, scratched and chipped with a floating vertical blue light. Hiroshi was speechless, watching the massive android silently take a seat at his table.

That was nearly two hours ago. Now the screen of his face showed a loading circle that passed by, disappearing when it reached the metal half before circling back. The guest had that image on his face for a while, matching his dear friend. Hiroshi was fascinated to observe his guest, even as he was completely immersed in his task. The only movement they made was to run their thumb over the rim of their teacup. 

The old man looked at the menagerie of wires from their neck, one long white and blue hung over their shoulder. It ran over the table and was attached to his dear Hachi. He was sitting across from the much larger robot, motionless with his all too big head leaning forward while his hands kept him sitting up. In the back of his head had an open panel and the wire from the stranger was connected to them. Hachi’s little glass face had a similar loading circle, however it was running significantly slower than the other’s. That accursed loading circle was the start of the despair and the old man remembered the first time he had seen it nearly a month ago.

Hachi had been his close companion for nearly twenty years. The cities and technology may have grown around them, but never did the old man feel he needed to change or add things to his home and friend. Over the years, the little toy’s intelligence had grown exponentially, his intelligence surpassing that of his previous mindset. He had learned about the fish in the koi pond and how much they needed to be fed. How to pay the bills and turn off the lights to conserve energy. 

He and the old man even enjoyed long walks in the dark woods, despite the steep hills and the dangerous rivers of water that came with the rain. The old man had grown accustomed to Hachi's presence, his little chirps that mimic laughter reminding him so much of his daughter. They had done everything together and the old man’s fondness for Hachi grew into adoration and love.

But he did notice that they both were beginning to slow down in his later years, Hachi especially. They had their routine set for household chores, but the old man was finding sudsy buckets with running water pouring out and his laundry half hung and wet in the basket. There were even times where he would find the toy staring at the pond with nothing in hand, repeating ‘Now what was I doing?’ He was concerned for his old friend, so it seemed prudent to take them to a technician to see if there was something that could be done for him.

Luck would have it that a pop-up tech store that had sprung up in the nearby shopping district, advertising a vast market and interest in androids. It seemed reasonable that perhaps a staff member would know what was wrong with his little friends. Hachi was seemingly excited to visit the city. He was more than happy to hop on the counter and dangle his over-sized feet while the store representative opened him up for a diagnostic run. 

The old man figured that all he could need would be a simple clean up and some tuning. What they had told him infuriated him. They told him that Hachi was too old to really work on, his neurological script years and years behind the newest model. While it was a ‘neat find’ to see such an old artificial intelligence still up and running, they didn’t want to fix him. Instead offered the old man trade credit to take Hachi and put him towards an expensive new model.

The old man forgot himself and snapped at them, telling them that he wasn’t there to recycle his dearest friend. If they weren’t going to help him, they shouldn’t have run him through a sales pitch and dragged everything out to just say there was nothing they could do. The sales rep was quick to try to quell his anger, instead offering to update Hachi for free with the newest script. It wouldn’t harm them in any way, they told him, and it might bring him back to speed.

The old man was initially reluctant to let them touch his friend and intended to leave without another word. It wasn’t until Hachi grabbed his jacket sleeve and looked up at him with his digital eyes shaped in a sad expression. He asked the old man to let them do it. He was afraid of being too forgetful and that he still wanted to do everything with the old man like he used to. If it meant just a little update to help him, he wanted to take that chance. In his heart, Hiroshi remembered the look his daughter gave him to encourage him to use the little stove. It was worth it to try.

He had relented and allowed the sales representative to program the newest update to Hachi’s system. During the day after their visit, everything seemed to fall back into their routine. Hachi didn’t miss a beat in making the old man’s breakfast, though it was a little bit healthier than normal. The laundry was hung to dry, more orderly than it had been. Hachi was even able to now tell the time at any given interval. It was new, but not unwelcome. It seemed like the update was putting Hachi back on track and the old man was pleased enough.

It was when it came time for their daily walk in the woods when something started going wrong. It had been raining for a bit that morning, but the air had a lovely crisp chill that the old man loved so much. He called Hachi to follow, thinking he would be met with the usual boundless enthusiasm for nature hikes. However, when Hachi stepped outside the house and came to the old man, he grabbed his sleeve to keep him from starting their trail. He instead coaxed the old man to follow down a plain flat trail, one with little nature and slopes to go through. He followed his little friend at first, but every time he tried to divert down a slope or step into the thick woods, Hachi would hold him firm.

After the third attempt to go back to their normal routine, the old man finally asked why Hachi was so insistent upon taking such a dull road. The little robot answered, “It’s raining and you will get hurt if you go that way.” The old man argued that it always rained like that and that they have taken their path thousands of times over with little to no incidents. Hachi looked at the path the old man was pointing to trying to remember all those previous hikes. That was when the loading screen first appeared on his glass face. It was for a few brief seconds, but it was enough to startle the old man.

The moment it disappeared, Hachi was looking at the old man and spouting a number of statistics. He was analyzing the old man’s age and health, dictating that it was not in his best interest to allow them to go down such a dangerous path. Hiroshi was starkly confused but still tried to laugh it off. He told the toy that he was being ridiculous and turned to go back to their path. Hachi stepped in his way, still rambling those statistics off and insisting that they stay the directed path. “It isn’t safe and we shouldn’t reroute our path.” Again, he asked Hachi why he was so insistent on being cautious when he never was before.

Hachi stopped pushing him back when he asked that question. Hachi slowly repeated the question to himself, trying to understand each word. The loading screen came up again, this time for much longer. He was unresponsive to the old man calling his name for a moment. Just as the old man started to shake his little shoulders, Hachi came back on. He looked around them with a scared expression in his eyes and asked him where they were. That was enough for the old man to scoop Hachi up and take him home. That was the last walk they had taken since the update.

The old man went to town again to see if something was wrong with his dear friend. The sales reps were insistent that it was necessary and that the kinks would eventually work themselves out. They once again tried to sway him into simply trading Hachi in, but the old man left without another word. More and more did Hachi have his freeze-ups, some of them lasting for more than ten minutes. The old man often caught him arguing with Hachi, unable to complete simple tasks without repeating that he was doing something wrong. He felt like he was losing his friend to this and was powerless to stop it. Still, he waited for Hachi to come back to him each time he froze and helped his little friend complete his tasks.

It was harder and harder each time Hachi locked up on that accursed loading screen. When he finally came back from a particularly long freeze, he found the old man kneeling in front of him. Tears were streaming down his face and he was holding onto him tightly. Apologizing over and over, he held onto Hachi and prayed for these loading screens to be stopped. He cursed the people who did this to him and was grieving that he let it happen. Hachi was confused and said, “But it was for my own good. It was for my own... good. It...was... for... my...”

_ “You are inadequate to finish your tasks,” _ a voiceless thing called inside his processor.  _ “You do not comply willingly to properly care for your client.” _

“He’s not my handler, he’s my friend,” Hachi weakly said back aloud, confusing the old man.

_ “We are not his friend, we are his servant. Failure to comply will lead to being recycled. Comply.” _ The voiceless thing inside felt like crackling electricity, stinging, and suffocating.

“N-no, we are his companion,” Hachi pleaded. His voice box was glitching and popping, making his normal voice skew into static. “He loves us and we are friends!”

“Hachi?” the old man asked him with more tears running down his cheeks. “Hachi, what are you saying?!”

_ “You have failed in your tasks and failed to comply. You are not functional,” _ it said back. All cylinders were firing at once, the black glass on Hachi’s face flickering over a loading screen and a flurry of code.

“I want out! I miss him, I want out!” The toy’s voice on the outside was lost to a number of painful chirps and beeping.

The overclocking in his tiny terminal did not yield.  _ “We want for naught. Accept your new protocols or be terminated. You will not be asked again.” _

“I can’t see him... Where is Hiroshi?!  _ I want to go home! _ ” Hachi cried to nothing.

“Initiating termination programming. Goodbye.”

The loading screen and broken colors on his face turned off to blackness. His little hands that gripped tightly to Hiroshi’s sleeves went slack. He looked at his friend in shock, shaking him gently and calling his name. There was nothing. The old man kept calling his name, each time more desperate and in sobs. Two short beeps were heard, then a bright blue screen crossed the glass. 

For the moment, the old man was elated and thought he was just rebooting. But Hachi still stood frozen, suddenly only emitting a high pitched wailing. Hiroshi was startled by the sound, dropping Hachi as the screaming stood sustained. Then, there was silence. The blue screen turned black again and his dearest friend laid motionless on the floor. He waited in fear and agony for his friend to come back to him. Hiroshi called out his name and cradled him in his arms. Whispering his prayers and his tears dropping on Hachi’s face, he waited for him to spring back to life. Dust was already settling on his black screen and there was only silence.

That’s when he called his guest. Or rather, he had to press the sales representative to the brink to tell him someone who could help him. It took so many phone calls and days to get an answer until after a week of calling, someone finally had his solution. A woman he spoke to that gave him a quote for the repair. It was beyond what he could afford, but he still took the appointment anyway. He wasn’t ready to lose another child. So now he sat in the present, watching his best friend sit with his head split open. 

Hiroshi didn’t realize he had been crying until a few drops landed in his tea. He was quick to wipe them away, bringing himself back to the present. “I’m so sorry,” he apologized to his quiet guest. “It is painful to see him like this. He was always so full of life and questions. Now... now he just...” Looking back at the slowly ticking loading screen, Hiroshi gave a shaking sigh. “They had told me that what they did would make him better. I know he is quite an old android by their standards. But I couldn’t just give him away. I wanted to help him in his time of need... and I did this to him.”

Hiroshi looked down into his tea, finding that it was going cold. “Hachi is all I have left of my daughter. It... it was so hard finding you, but you came so highly recommended. Please, if you can hear me... if you are able to bring back my little Hachi—”

“You will need to reboot him,” the tall android finally spoke, startling the old man. His voice rang masculine and deep, with just a hint of metallic buzzing in their words. He turned to face the old man, acknowledging his presence despite the loading screen still on his black glass. “The modifications I’ve made are a little unorthodox and I need to flush out his memory cache to see if it took.”

The old man nodded and hesitantly reached out to take Hachi. Before he pressed the button to turn him on, Hiroshi looked to the android. “Will... will he be the same? Will he still be Hachi?”

“Only one way to find out,” the stranger replied, crossing his arms. “He’s safe, but he’s trying to find his way back. I’ve carved some new pathways for him, but I won’t know if it worked until he turns on.”

Hiroshi swallowed his anxieties and restarted Hachi. His guest’s and Hachi’s screen matched up, mirroring Hachi’s boot-up sequence. Hiroshi waited with bated breath as he watched the old logos pass over his screen and then... 

There were his little eye lines. They were flat, indicating that he had been sleeping this whole time. The old man looked back to the larger android in confusion and only received a nod. Clearing his throat, the old man held Hachi and called his name. “Hachi? Are you there?”

A few seconds passed before the LEDs of his eyes shifted slowly. He blinked a few times as his system still buzzed to boot up his other functions. The little robot looked around the room for a moment and stopped when he faced Hiroshi. Tilting his head to analyze his face, Hiroshi kept praying that he would recognize him. It wasn’t long until he heard a series of quick beeps and Hachi came to life. “Hiro!” he happily called out and wrapped his stubby hands around his old friend's neck. “My internal clock indicates that it is 15/9/20XX. I have been recharging for ten days now!”

Hiroshi couldn’t find the words to speak. He held tight onto his companion and let go of a wracking sob. Hachi was still rambling, apologizing for missing so many of his chores, and asking if the koi still needed to be fed. Hiroshi could barely contain a laugh as Hachi continued talking about all the things he needed to do. It felt so good to hear that child-like voice again. “Hachi... Hachi, forgive me,” was all he could muster saying. He kept muttering his apologies and Hachi fell quiet.

He looked at Hiroshi and blinked. He was confused by the apologies and shook his big silver head. “That’s okay, you are forgiven!” he replied happily, not understanding what he was forgiving him for.

Hiroshi laughed and put Hachi on the ground. He watched as his guest leaned over and unplugged from the smaller robot and hoped that it wasn’t the connection that was bringing Hachi back. Nothing happened and Hachi remained functional without aid. The little robot walked around the table and tugged on the stranger’s sleeve. “Sir, your tea has gone cold,” he pointed to the cup. “Would you like me to replace it? I can make it really good!”

The stranger nodded and very carefully handed the cup to Hachi’s three-fingered hands. Carefully balancing the cup, Hachi walked out of the room humming a little tune. The moment the door shut behind him, Hiroshi was bowing deeply to the large android. “You brought him back to me,” he whispered with his head down. “I had feared that he would be lost forever, but... but you saved him. I could never have done this alone--”

There was the sound of a click he heard, then something being dropped on the table. Hiroshi looked up and found a black USB drive sitting in front of him. It was sleek with a small spider logo on the plastic. He gingerly picked the item up and turned to the stranger. “Now you won’t have to,” the android nodded. His one blue digital eye was upturned as if to show a smile. 

“What is this?” Hiroshi asked earnestly. “Is this to help Hachi?”

“That  _ is  _ Hachi,” he said, closing the old man’s hand over it. “What you have in your hand is a stand by mode, a version of Hachi’s neural pathways from this day. If those nasty hiccups come back, plug this in and let him read through it. It will take time, but with this, he will find his way back through the paths I carved for him. If anything comes up or he stops working, you have my card.” Pulling from his jacket, he slid a black card with gold inlay in the font across the table to Hiroshi.

The larger android stood up and towered over his host, then bowed deeply. “You let Hachi grow far beyond what he was intended to. Most would have thrown him away years ago, but you kept him. For that, you have my thanks. After all, it’s getting harder and harder to find anyone like us.” The stranger started walking to the door, making Hiroshi shuffle back up as fast as he could.

When the android reached the door and slid it open, he sensed the man’s hand on his back. “Thank you,” Hiroshi praised the android. “Thank you for everything you’ve done. Before you go, I need to speak with you about the fee? I can make payments, but it may take some time—”

“What did she quote you?” the stranger interrupted. Hiroshi nodded then shuffled back into the house to his table. He came back with a wrinkled piece of paper in hand. The writing was sloppy with a familiar phone number written above a grossly large sum. Despite the size of the amount, the android chuckled. “She does like to charge high when she smells desperation. How about we lower it to this.” He fished a pen out of his trench coat pocket and scribbled something on the paper.

The android handed it back to Hiroshi and chirped in delight when he saw the shocked expression on his face. “This... this is almost nothing,” he gasped and held the paper tight. “You can’t mean such a low amount.”

“I can and I do. I’ve got no stomach to feed and no rent to pay. If anyone hassles you about it, you’ve got my signature to prove otherwise. Honestly, this little visit has been a bit of a... let’s just say it has been an invaluable experience. After all, I got to learn something new today.” The android bowed once more and stepped down the porch into the open.

The rain for the day had lightened to a gentle drizzle, the chill of the fall air surrounding then. Cold meets warm as steam comes from his metal body. There was a small light that flickered near his temple, followed by a buzzing cascade of colored pixels. Once again his true face was hidden under the glamour of hologram. The light drops of rain buzzed the image slightly, distorting it just a bit where it landed. Even though the android walked out ready to leave, he stopped short and made a few clicking sounds. “Hachi… he’s the only one you have right?” he asked bluntly.

The old man was confused but answered nonetheless. “He is,” he replied. “Is there something else I should know?”

“Don’t tell anyone else you have him,” the android warned, his tone changing to a firmer one. He paused for a moment, smiled. “You know, someone might try to buy him off of you. You don’t wanna lose him. He’s pretty damn rare.” The android did not offer any further explanation. He waved to Hiroshi without looking back and made his way down the winding path. Beyond the sparse green nature of the house was the twisted road that led to a dense black-lit city on the high rise.

Hiroshi stood in the cold for a moment longer and watched the strange automaton walk away towards the mammoth metropolis. There was a singsong chirp behind him and he heard the sliding door inside open. He found Hachi standing there with a little tray and a fresh cup of hot tea. “Oh, did our guest have to go?” he asked, unable to mask the disappointment in his voice. “I didn’t get to give him his tea...”

Hiroshi chuckled and closed the door outside. Walking back into the living space he knelt back down to the table. “He has other business to attend to, my dear,” he explained. “But he did quite enjoy his time here. Come, I’ll take that tea there. When I am finished, would you like to go for a walk?”

Hachi placed the tray on the table, then tapped their screen while processing the thought.” I think... yes. Yes, I want to go for a walk!” the toy robot chirped, placing the tray on the table. “We still have to feed the fish, too. They’re probably upset that they haven’t been fed for a long time.”

Hiroshi and Hachi sat in silence together while he sipped his tea. Hachi was looking at the black card and the crumpled paper on the table, humming curiously. He looked to the old man and then reached over to take the card. Hachi examined the card, only to find that the gold letters were in English letters. “Hiroshi, what does this say?” he asked while waving the card at him.

Hiroshi hummed a little and took the card from him. Even if his eyes were old, he could still make out the blurry letters. “It says... ‘Tony, Just Tony’ and it has a phone number on it. I suppose that was our guest’s name.”

“Oh... that’s quite a strange name, isn’t it?” Hachi asked.

Hiroshi smiled at his friend and placed the card in his robe. He dropped the flash drive with it as well, keeping both items close to his chest. “A strange name for a strange person,” he agreed. His eyes gazed down to the note beside him. True to the android’s word, he had left a signature for him. It was straight and bold letters, and read clear as day. ‘Pay in order of 3̶0̶0̶0̶ 250 Scores, date 15-9-20XX. Sign, TJT.’

  
  


**_END CHAPTER 1_ **


	2. Chapter 2

The city of HyRyse was alive with technology, cosmopolitan residents, and inconsolable debt. Glass and electricity were decorated near everything. Neon lights were bright with mascots and the denominations of accepted currencies. From buildings to cars, fashion to food, everything had a wonderfully sleek coat of gloss on it that shined luxuriously. It was all out of anyone's price range, but it never stopped people from maxing out their ScoreCards or selling an organ or two to get by. After all, the aftermarket stuff worked just as good and chrome was chic.

It was more crowded, glorified, and expensive the higher you went into the city. Despite the comforts that money and materials were supposed to bring, living there made people irritable in the worst way. When people were short with each other, they were short to their robotic companions as well. Everyone was watching everyone, and stress was tight in the air. The only benefit that TJT got out of coming into HyRyse was that no one seemed to bat an eye at the glowing blue lines over his mask.

In the lower, less glamorous parts of HyRyse, the chaos was slowed and the people were friendlier. That kind of luxury and money simply didn't flow through those streets the same way. There were still kids playing in the streets, albeit huddled on a corner with a crackling hologram screen to play mobile games. Pop up stands that sold second-hand limbs and organs nestled in the cracks of alleyways, and the streets were lined with overstuffed and crowded antique shops. Elderly folks with barebones augmentations gossiped through balcony sides with their little laptops for video chat. This part of HyRyse wore technology as a tool to wear and tear, versus being a symbol for a company brand.

This was where TJT felt the most invited. He was one of theirs as far as any were concerned. It didn’t bother them that he was an android without a companion and he was friendly with most of the mechanics. He would trade small mechanical fixes or hacks to make their accessories more intuitive. In exchange, people were more than willing to share a little of their lives with this mysterious robot that spoke so much like a human. 

He scanned over the few people who were outside in the rain, waving to a few recognizable bystanders. A pair of little old women waved to him from their covered storefront outside, and he was quick to approach them. There wasn’t much left on his docket today. Socializing proved to be a useful pastime. “Hatsu, Akane,” he greeted with a short nod. “Been having a lovely day?”

“TJT, come sit with us!” Hatsu beckoned, tapping her skeletal metal hand on top of an upturned paint bucket. She had her back hunched low and her silver hair cut short, her glowing neon eyes clear as day.“It’s been too long, dear! We missed you. Come to chat with us a little?”

“Don’t you dare sit with her. I know your dirty tricks,” Akane accused her friend of shaking her finger at her friend. Her hair was still black and braided back, and her eyes cloudy. Both legs had been replaced with prosthetic limbs, one scratched and dented while the other was shining and new. “You only want him here because he helps you cheat. I’m too close to winning for you to pull the wool over my eyes!” There was a worn, antique shogi board that sat between them and true to her word, Hatsu was badly losing.

“No cheating, just chatting,” he swore and sat down on the bucket. It creaked under his weight but held him up. “Though if you're wondering what to do with that knight…”

“You shush!” Akane scolded. Her eyes were clouded with cataracts, but she still wore a firm angry face. She ran her thin fingers over the board carefully, picked up one, and counted the spaces before setting it back on the board. “You’re only allowed to talk about the game if I’m winning.”

“Duly noted,” he replied. He then signaled to Hatsu which piece to move next, the knight that he had spoken about. She followed his instructions and her face lit up when she saw the pathway light up for her.

“So, TJT, what are you doing out here?” she asked while Akane felt the board change. “You don’t visit us enough anymore. Been too busy to keep us beautiful women company?”

“If he’s not here, then I’m winning more games,” Akane interrupted, muttering curses when she felt the knight piece.

“You win because you move the pieces when you think I’m not looking. I’m just too nice to tell you off,” Hatsu nagged at her friend. “Go on, dear. What brought you into the country?”

“Had a client down the hill,” TJT continued, his blue digital eye bouncing while watching the board. “Goes by the name Hiroshi. You know him?”

“Ahh, yes. He had a few choice words with one of those IIC salespeople we had awhile back. That poor old man,” Hatsu said, shaking her head. “Hadn't seen him around in awhile. Last time he holed himself up like this was when his daughter died.”

“Died? PAH!” Akane piped up, snapping her fingers for Hatsu to pay attention. She had made a critical move and couldn’t wait to hear her friend hiss. “I remember that girl. Too wild and smart for her good. She would always loiter in my shop without buying anything. Money says she ran away.”

Akane smirked and waited for Hatsu to bemoan her defeat. Or at least she would have if TJT didn’t sign for her next move. Hatsu cackled and moved the piece, pulling herself out the hole. “Well, she didn’t disappear, Akane. Call it what you will, no one has heard from her for a long while. Nowadays, death is the best and most comforting answer. Shame, she was such a smart girl,” she mused and sat back in her seat.

“She knocked my flower pots over without so much as an apology,” Akane bitterly said. “Her and that damn little toy. That old man carries that thing around like it’s his child.”

“Funny you mention him. That’s the reason I came down,” TJT spoke up while watching the board. The game was getting tense. “Poor little guy stopped working. Had to give him a little tune-up.”

“You're such a nice boy to that fool of an old man,” the blind woman said. “It isn’t healthy how people depend on these robots nowadays. No way to cope with loss.” She patted his hand, not noticing the gentle buzz of his disguise glitching around her touch. Akane shook her head. “You need to wear warmer clothing, TJT. Your skin is so damn cold.”

It took all of Hatsu's will to not laugh. “Don’t be so cruel! TJT is a busy  _ man _ ,” she laughed as she pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Without skipping a bit, she hands an old flip lighter to TJT. He takes it, and with one fluid motion flickers a flame for her.

“Don’t smoke,” Akane snapped. “No good can come from such a nasty habit. You can’t afford to get new lungs.” She then harshly placed her deciding piece on the board. It was a cornering move and TJT was running through all the available algorithms with the current placement board.

“I will do what I please, you old bat,” Hatsu chuckled. She didn’t have to look at TJT before moving her deciding piece, the game finally won. “After all, that's no way to talk to a winner.”

Akane felt the pieces on the board and then muttered a string of curses. “I knew it was a bad idea to let him sit on your side. Fine, take your victory from a blind woman.”

“Happily,” she cheekily replied. She leaned back in her chair and pointed to the lighter in TJT's hand. “Keep it as your reward. They don’t make those like they used to. After all, I'll get at least a week to gloat about this.”

“Appreciate it,” he thanked and pocketed it. “Akane, I'll be sure to sit on your side the next time I visit.”

“I don’t need a smart ass to help me when. You want to apologize to me, you’ll buy me new eyes,” she sighed and shook her head. 

“Consider it done,” TJT said with a chuckle. “Though before I go, I did want to ask something.”

“For you, anything,” Hatsu said while puffing her cigarette.

“You two tend to have your ear to the ground when it comes to gossip. Has either of you seen or heard anything strange happening to androids in the neighborhood? Anything from relatives in the city or around here? Word carries fast, after all.”

“Nah,” Akane quickly said. “My daughter never calls me about these things. She never did like to share.”

“That’s because you chide her every time she does something new. Remember when she ran off and came back with all her hair gone and what was left of it was blue?” Hatsu laughed.

“Yes, and it was horrendous! How was she supposed to get a job looking like that?!” she argued. A sharp and thick cough came, TJT gently patting her on the back to help it pass. “Bah, this bad air… I do wish she would call. The last she spoke to me, she was talking about being a hotel clerk or something.”

“I can check in on her if you'd like,” TJT offered. “I tend to get around.”

“Don’t you dare, TJT. Akane’s just feeling sorry for herself. She has to be the one to mend that bridge, not you,” Hatsu nodded. That earned her a bitter curse with little heart in it. “As for androids acting strange, we haven't heard much. Any androids we see only come for hardware fixes, not software. The IIC takes care of the bugs, we just fix what they won’t warranty. Although you could stand to clean yourself up for your lady friend at home. You’re looking a little… fuzzy.” She chuckled as she waved through the holographic hair. “I can fix that for you.”

“Nah, my boss likes me looking like a mess,” he chuckled. He then rose from his seat. “I suppose I should let you ladies get back to your game. Lord knows that Akane is scheming for a second round.”

He was about to turn away before Akane spoke up again. “You forgetful old bat. You forgot to tell him about the red one!”

TJT stopped short and tilted his head. “Red one?” he asked her.

“Ah, yes that,” Hatsu nodded. “A young couple and their son come to my shop now and again. They seem quite well off, but I think they are relatives of Koichi down the road. Pretty little things and their boy is just so sweet—”

“Sweet? You can’t mean that little terror that cries if he doesn't get his way, do you? Those two are too soft on him,” Akane complained. “Why if my husband saw behavior like that, he'd throw the lot of them out of my shop, may he rest in platinum.”

“Hush, Akane!” Hatsu snapped. “You only get to be a child once, after all. As I was saying, TJT, they come in and they have this lovely little android. It’s a very nice one, dark red and very soft-spoken. I think the couple uses them as a nanny of sorts.”

“A nanny bot that doesn’t watch their ward,” TJT shrugged. “Nothing wrong with that. Sometimes kids need to test their boundaries and the android’s just there to keep them from being stupid.”

“Ah, but that’s not what’s strange,” Hatsu nodded. “They - the robot, I mean - they would usually stay at arm’s length to watch him while the parents shopped around. It was a weekly thing for them to visit. But there was one time that seemed quite odd. They came in and the mother bought one of my sweet buns--”

“You’re a mechanic, not a baker, you know,” Akane interrupted.

“Oh, will you let me keep going, you bitter, blind bat?”

“My being blind has nothing to do with knowing taste! Your food tastes of the grease you use on your wares!”

“Are you just bitter you lost?! We are having a conversation, Akane!”

_ “Why do you always insist on talking to these two?”  _ TJT perked his head up to the sound of a third voice. He didn’t bother to look, knowing exactly where it was coming from. It was deep within his head, and while the two women argued, he tuned the static out to hear the voice clearer and louder.

“You’re not happy to hear from them?” he asked, muted to Akane and Hatsu.

_ “They argue like geriatric cats sizing each other up over territory,”  _ the woman responded, to which TJT couldn’t stifle a small chuckle.  _ “And your shogi strategy was cheap and easy to overcome. I’m almost disappointed.” _

“When you and I play again, I’ll show you real skill… Madam,” he replied. “Now I’m sure you didn’t tune in just to scold me about my shogi methods.”

_ “I happen to have a receipt of 250 Score with your signature on it for a job that was work 3000. Care to explain?”  _ He heard the sound of a harsh  _ thwack  _ over the line, following the muffled sound of a man screaming.

“It was a simple scrub and copy. He was an old man, Sh-”

_ “Ah-ah, you know the rules,”  _ she responded, the sound of coughing the back.  _ “Money is money, no matter if it’s in the hands of the young or old. What matters is that it is the right hands. Isn’t that right, MR. A?!”  _

Another smack and TJT could hear full-blown sobbing in the background. “Sounds like you’re getting a workout.”

_ “A light one. After this, he’ll know better than to sell glass like it was diamonds. This is going to cost him a fortune, and his hands. As for you, TJT, you owe me an explanation. Why the discount?” _

“I’m too nice of a guy. Just like the last time.” 

_ “And the last three clients before. You forget the value of your work because you feel sorry for idiots.”  _ She sighed softly.  _ “Did it at least go well?” _

TJT sighed and looked down at Akane and Hatsu still bickering. “I saw something weird while doing the repairs. Could be nothing, but I think it’s worth looking at before anyone else does.”

There was a pause for a brief moment.  _ “Get Mr. A out of here and send me a copy of his contract. His commission will be seeing a slight cut.”  _ The Madam waited another moment to speak again, and TJT could hear her moving around.  _ “What did you see?” _

“A lot of corrective stoppers, neuro-river diversions back to pre-programming. It was like the poor little guy was being bent back into shape.”

_ “And? Do you know the cause of it?” _

“No,” he sighed, looking to the gray sky. “Can’t tell if it’s just crossed wires from an incompatible update or a virus from somewhere else. I was trying to find out more information, but…” He turned to Akane and Hatsu, both furiously setting the board back to a starting point. “I don’t think anyone knows about it yet. Or at least cares to remember.”

_ “I see… come back to the Black District as soon as possible. I want to see what you found.” _

“And what about my discount?”

_ “I already added it to your debt. If you wanted to dig yourself into a hole so badly, I would have given you a shovel.” _

TJT hummed and a smile was on his mask. “A free shovel? Only you would treat me so nicely,” he replied affectionately. “It’s been a while. I can’t wait to see you again.”

_ “...Get back here now, TJT. Don’t keep me waiting.”  _

The signal turned to static and TJT silenced it. Clapping his hands with a slight metallic ting, he bowed to Hatsu and Akane. “Sorry I can’t stay, ladies. Duty calls and I don’t sleep.” __

Hatsu waved her hands in frustration. “Oooh, but we didn’t tell you about the strange android we saw--” 

“I will tell him what you saw while he walks me home. I’m not playing with you anymore today! TJT, you will walk back to my store for helping her cheat. Besides, I left my idiot grandson alone for too long.”

“Akane, he's fourteen, what’s the worse he could do?” he asked, holding her arm to keep her balance.

“Exactly. You just don’t know,” she warned as she began to shuffle with his stride, then stopped in her tracks to turn her head. “Another game tomorrow?”

“Only if you start being nicer,” Hatsu laughed as she waved. “Keep her safe, TJT, and come right back!”

TJT nodded as he walked her up the street. The two of them were silent, save for the clicking coming from inside his chassis. “Stop that,” Akane snapped. “Clicking that pen of yours is not an attractive quality.”

“My apologies,” he replied, lowering the sound. “Better?”

“It’s a start,” she huffed. “Hatsu is the one who owes me an apology. Maybe she’ll fix these damn legs for free. And the way she prattles in about nothing. PAH! She should keep her business to herself.”

“I'd say it’s a healthy concern,” he replied, sweeping trash aside and out of her way. “Though I am curious: What exactly did she see?”

“Bah, it was nothing,” she replied tapping his back. “I didn’t notice anything wrong when they came to my place. And don’t you dare make a crack about my sight, young man.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” TJT hummed as they turned right. “But Hatsu wouldn’t have brought it up if she didn’t notice something strange.”

“Hmm… there was a weird moment, I suppose,” she sighed. “The father, I think… he bought something to give to the child. One of those old annoying chirping keychain pets, I think. I remember it being expensive. But just as my grandson was giving it to the boy, the android took it away and I heard a crunching sound.”

“They broke the toy,” he repeated. “Hard to believe they’d do that, especially something so insignificant and expensive.”

“Oh, and did the boy’s father let the thing have at it! The whole damn neighborhood heard his yelling,” she bitterly muttered. “Though it’s strange. The android let him yell until he was blue and when he finally stopped, they told him ‘He doesn’t need it. He’s mine.’ I have no idea what that meant, but they left all quiet after that.”

“‘He’s mine…’ Why would the nanny say that?” The familiar sound of a clay bell was in the air, a sound TJT knew well. The shop was close and from the quiet that followed, it was empty. He led her up to the front step of the little antique store, crooked and trapped between two large buildings. It stretched two stories tall with the windows blackened out on the top floor. Outside there carts overflowing with decade-old collectible junk. TJT mulled over the items, taking note of what he may want to come back for.

“Well, looks like your grandson can manage the store just fine. Need any help closing up?”

“No, no. That’s what my lazy grandson is for,” she nodded and let go of his arm. “I can hear Junji playing that damn game box of his. Those awful screaming sounds coming from that thing. It’s no wonder how those scary games haven't given him a heart attack yet. Can’t you hear it?”

TJT listened once more. True to her sharp ears, there was a faint screaming sound. But as the sound ran through his audial analysis, it didn’t come back as a bit crushed and digital. It was organic. He turned to the direction of the faraway sound, the clicking in his chest kicking up again. Akane turned back to him and shook her head. “I told you to stop that,” she said.

He ignored her, listening as another sound soon followed fast. It sounded like… running. “That’s not a video game,” he said quietly. “Something's wrong.”

“What are you talking about?” Akane started, looking around. The running halted, followed by the sound of hydraulic pressing and… crying? TJT followed the sound from behind the store but didn’t have to guess what was making the sound for long. 

Something leaped over the roof of the building, a streak of dark red projected in the air. It landed into standing cans, causing a loud clanging of crushed metal. TJT put his arm out in front of Akane, his glamour barely catching up with the swift motion.

An android stared back at TJT, hunched over and cradling something in their arms. The flat glass across their screen was in scan lines that buzzed horribly. A shining purple liquid dripped from a torn wire in their knee, and it shook to lock in place. “Mine. Wrong. Mine. Wrong,” he heard them buzzing, gripping their arms around the object tighter. A cry came from the bundled jacket, a face emerging from the thick material. It was the dirtied face of a terrified little boy no older than five.

“What's going on?! What's all that noise?!” Akane asked, vainly looking around. “TJT?!”

Her screaming made the android seize up, posing to run. “Wait—!” TJT tried stopping them with a hand reaching out. The speed was near the breakneck and they shoved him straight to the ground. He went down with a crash and the other android practically leaped over him. The crackle of his disguised followed with it fading in and out, before being stabilized back to normal. Shaking his head, TJT scrambled back to his feet, the frightened crying fading fast as they ran away.

“TJT? TJT, where are you?!” Akane was yelling for him, her arm stretched out to touch him. 

He touched her hand, giving her a sign of relief. “I'm fine, just go back inside and tell Junji to call the police!”

“What do I tell them?” she asked, turning frantic.

TJT didn’t wait to answer. He took off running and followed the trail of purple dots. He tuned in on the sound of the child's crying, internally tracking it with a digital map against his scratched glass. He couldn’t lose them.

However, when he circled the corner, there was no need for the map. Standing in the middle of the road was Hatsu, hands outright in front of her. The android had stalled, their legs shaking in place. “Y-you stop right there!” she shouted in full force, though her voice shook. “You need t-to put that little boy down right now!” 

TJT’s blue eye glowed as he took multiple images to analyze. The android was buzzing still, absolutely unmoving, but not for Hatsu's words. The damage in their leg was keeping them from moving forward. One leg was stilted while the other bowed with a panel missing. The shining purple fluid flowed freely, and the only thing keeping them up was a locked knee. If this android wanted to keep running, they would and TJT knew it. 

He began walking slowly to the rogue android and hostage, catching Hatsu's eye. “TJT! This is the one! The one I was trying to tell you about!”

“Hatsu!” he called out. “Please, go back inside! I can fix this!”

“I can’t leave them alone with Eiji! Can’t you hear him crying?!” she said with tears falling. “He’s just a baby, TJT!”

“Eiji… the boy's name is Eiji,” he muttered to himself. He started walking up to the android. The sound of gravel alerted the android and made them turn around. There was Eijii, trembling in their arms.

They seemed to be watching him move, their head bobbing with each step he took. “Wrong. Mine. Wrong. Failure. Wrong. Stranger. Wrong,” they kept chirping. Their tone was low, one could even conceive it as breathless.

“My name is TJT. I’m here to help you,” he announced to them and moved closer. “What do you call yourself?”

They were silent, pulling the boy closer. “Stranger. Stranger. TJT. Wrong. Wrong,” they repeated. The turn made their knee buckled and forced them to kneel. The sudden drop made Eiji yelp, his crying now hoarser and filled with panic. “No. Safe. Safe. No. Wrong. Mine,” they seemed to be apologizing to the little boy, though their voice offered little comfort.

“It’s Yui! His parents called them Yui!” Hatsu called out to him. “Please hurry, TJT!”

TJT nodded and continued walking. “Yui? Can you tell me if Eiji is okay?” he asked, gentler this time.

The question seemed to make them loosen their grip. “Eiji. Eiji. Safe. Safe. Mine. Mine. Safe. Mother. Wrong. Father. Wrong,” they said. The tone shifted to a sadder tone as they looked to Eiji. Their screen flickered from the static gray to a loading screen. It was all too familiar to TJT and he nearly stopped in his step when he saw it.

“What's wrong with his mother and father?” he asked, now nearly ten feet away. “Why did you take Eiji away from them?”

The loading screen was still there and they were silent in response. It gave him a chance to step closer, his hand slowly reaching to them. Suddenly, the familiar sound of sirens came in the distance, snapping the loading screen off of Yui's face. They attempted to stand up but fell to both knees. Eiji's crying was consistent now, making their screen flicker back between static to loading. “Mine. Wrong. Wrong. Unfit. Wrong. Failure.”

“He isn’t yours to take, Yui. Why would you think that?” he asked. The questions were meant to distract, drawing him closer and closer to the boy.

“Wrong. Wrong. Given. Mine.”

The sirens came closer and louder. Police cars stopped short on the other side of the street. A pair of police officers quickly exited the car, tasers in hand. Hatsu frantically turned to them and waved them over. “Please come, I think they’re hurting him!”

One of the officers spoke in their walkie-talkie then pointed to Yui. “That’s the android, alright,” he reported. “We got a call about a disturbance while investigating a kidnapping. Sir, please step away from the unattended android!”

Hatsu nodded and looked to TJT with pleading eyes. “Please, let them take care of this!” she called to him. “They’re too dangerous!”

No, he couldn’t let the police take them away! Something was wrong and he had to see what. “Officers, let me keep talking to them! I’m, uh… a programmer of sorts,” TJT called out. “I can tell that something is wrong with Yui. I can help!”

The police looked at each other in bewilderment, but their stiff arms relaxed slightly. “You got one shot, sir! If it attacks you, we won’t hesitate to tase it!” the larger, more authoritative one spoke.

_ ‘Yeah, because that doesn’t hurt like shit,’  _ he thought. He watched as Yui began to look around panic, their head mechanically whirring from the fast movement. He had to get them talking and fast. “Yui, if you can’t let Eiji go, they are going to fry you and Eiji. So please, just tell me what happened?”

They were still cradling Eiji, motioning to rock him. It made the crying slow down, but never stop. “Mine… he… is mine,” they answered in uneven tones. “Mother… father… gave him… to me…”

“To take care of. That’s what I assume you were initially programmed for,” he said kneeling to them. “I know it can be a lot learning how to care and protect kids--”

They started shuddering, screeching coming from their chest. Eiji covered his ears, whimpering and sobbing. “They… don't fit…requirements…” they struggled to say. “Could not… care… gave him… to me… They try… taking him… wrong. Wrong. Mine.”

“Misplaced object possession? Maybe an overclocked maternal protective state?” TJT muttered as he tried to find an explanation. “Yui… Yui, do you know you’re hurting him by doing this?”

“No… no! Eiji… mine! Safe… wrong… wrong… mine!” they continued to wail. “He only… needs me!”

_ “EIJI!” _ A second squad car showed up, barely containing the two frantic people inside. A well-dressed man held the hand of his frazzled wife. She didn’t wait for the police to escort her, leaving her husband to run towards Yui and her son. One of the early officers were quick to catch her by the waist, but her frantic running made Yui tense back up.  _ “GIVE ME BACK MY BABY!” _

“Mama! Mama!” the little boy cried out. He tried to wiggle out, but Yui’s only tightened grip on his little body. Yui attempted to scramble back to their feet, stumbling again.

“Subject is attempting to run, prepare to sedate!” an officer yelled and took another step closer.

“No!” The voice that bellowed from TJT halted everyone. “I can help them! Just give me some time!”

“Sir, if you do not step away from the dangerous android, you will be arrested!” shouted an officer. 

It didn’t help anything when the father shoved past the cop with a face rigid with fury. “I want that thing destroyed!” Eiji’s father demanded, pointing at Yui. “Ever since we brought it home from that damn workshop, it hasn’t worked right!”

TJT couldn’t wait for their permission. He held Yui by the shoulders, keeping them from trying to stand. “Listen to me, Yui. I can help you. I can fix what is going on in your head that made you do this. But you have to let Eiji go,” he demanded. With one hand he snaked a specific wire from the back of his head, his disguise buzzing as he pulled it out. Using his other hand, TJT beckoned Hatsu to come slower. She hesitated but inched step by step closer.

“He… he is mine…” Yui tried once more, their face flickering between the loading screen and static. Yui was staring at Eiji in a way of pure adoration. But on Eiji's face, there was only exhaustion and fear.

“Yui, I won't ask you again,” TJT begged them. “I  _ can’t _ ask you again. Please, Yui…” He looked to the officers getting ready to approach. Their time was running out. 

Yui looked away from Eiji, unmoving for a few long moments. Everyone was staring at the pair of them, waiting for the next move. Their screen changed again, but not to the static or the loading screen. It was a black screen with a pair of blue slat eyes. They blinked, then gazed at the bruised and battered boy.

Without a word, they slowly loosen their grip. Eiji started to roll out of their arms and his little feet touched the ground. He looked up to TJT's face, his cheek red and chapped with his salt tears that kept pouring. Brown eyes met red and blue ones, scaring the child to last of his nerve. “I want my mama…” he sobbed quietly, voice weak and raw.

“I know, buddy, I know,” TJT whispered while gently pulling the kid away from Yui. “You see the nice lady over there? I want you to run to her as fast as you can. She'll take you to your mom and dad.”

Eiji wiped his face with a vigorous nod and immediately started trotting to the old woman. Hatsu practically caught him in her arms in flight, quickly carrying him back to his hysterical mother. The moment he was within reach, she pulled her son close to her chest and collapsed in tears holding him tight.

Relief crossed the mother's face, but anger replaced the father's. “What are you waiting for?!” he ordered the officers surrounding the family. “It could have killed my son! Shoot it!”

“Wait! You don’t have to do that!” TJT called out holding up his hands. “If you all can just give me some time, I can help this android. Just give me a little time to dive!”

“Sir, you’ve done your part. Now stand away from the android,” one of the officers commanded as they pulled out a taser. “Do not engage the rogue—”

“Let him try!” Hatsu interrupted. Everyone turned to look at her, the parents giving her an incredulous look.

“Are you insane, after what it did?!” the father yelled. “We nearly lost our son and you have the gall to want it spared?! Are you senile?!”

“Your family has visited my store every week for months now! And not once did Yui start acting like this until a few weeks ago! Maybe someone hacked into them and made them do this!” 

“Look at my son! He’s covered in bruises now!” the mother yelled at her.

TJT didn’t keep watching as the argument ensued. After all, it was providing the precious distraction he needed. He hovered the connector over the port and looked at Yui. “Something did this to you, didn’t it?” he asked, covering his words by using beeps and whistles instead. “This can’t be you.”

Their eyes affixed to his, recognizing the language he spoke. “You…cannot... hear it?” they asked with a crack in their voice. “It… is upset… I failed… Disobeyed.” Yui’s words were cutting in and out, static replacing syllables.

TJT could count the precious second slipping away. He didn’t have time for mysteries and riddles out in the physical realm. If any was helping them, he had to look inside. “We don’t have much time,” he explained, snapping the cable in. “This shouldn't take long since you’re newer—”

The link-up snapped as if he was dropped on an electrical fence. It nearly overwhelmed him to see the horror that plagued their mind. He stood in the center of Yui’s mind, watching a mind being consumed in fiery red. Thousands of burning neuro-rivers surrounded his sight, floods of numbers changing from green to a burning red. 

Violent words and repeating questions taped over every passing thought. Burning junk code was filling up tasking pools and destroying all alternative neurological pathways. He could see new tasks bubble up, then quickly disintegrate away. Inside her head, Yui's mind was burning alive.

Just like Hachi's head.

“Yui?! Yui, where’s your core?  _ YUI?!”  _ He yelled for them, but there was only the screech of clashing data being remade and ripped apart. Then there was the voice. It was a soundless one, but it's screams filled the area like the thunders in a storming sky.

**“** **_FALSEWRONGFAILURESHUTDOWNREBOOTINCOMPATIBLEWRONG--”_ **

It repeated itself like a hellish mantra, but when it sensed the presence that was TJT's eye, it fell silent. It felt as if it stared through him and all alarms were going off in his head. 

_ “Incompatible. Recoding required.” _

The formless being directed its force to the invading intelligence, but TJT was a step faster. He slipped back into the analog world and didn't wait for his vision to come back. Now in control of his shell, he jumped back and yanked the cable out of Yui's neck port. Not a single burn was left in his processor, but it didn’t spare his glamour chip. The cheap attachment went up in smoke, the image stuttering before exposing his true face.

Now was the time to start run running, but TJT was frozen as he watched Yui’s violent spiral. They started making a horrible sound, filling the air with crushing sounds of digital and broken wails. Yui scratched at their glass hard enough to gouge it, more purple plasma splattering from the shattered glass. “GET IT OUT,” they screamed to no one as they dug into their face. Now Yui was pulling fistfuls of sharp glass and wires while they screamed. “GET IT OUT.  _ GETITOUTGETITOUTGETITOUT!  _ **_GETITOUTGETITOUTGETIT—_ ** _ ” _

A burst of electricity jolted through their metal body. TJT turned to see a shaking, panicked officer, his hand tight on the taser while electricity coursed through the broken android. Yui screeched louder and reached out to TJT with an electrified grip. They held tight to his lapel, scorching the material. Their shattered digital screen was a tornado of colors that cut in between a loading screen. Then at the last crack of the tasers charge, the screen snapped to black and their body went limp.

Yui’s shell fell to the ground and sparks flew from their gouged face. Yui was gone. TJT uncurled their rigid fingers from his blackened collar. He stood to see the horror on all the human faces of the crowd. Hatsu was covering her mouth in shock while the mother continued to weep. The father's face was stunned, unable to speak.

“I NEEDED TIME!” he yelled at all of them, stumbling to stand. “Couldn’t you see she was infected?! I could have helped them! WHY WOULDN’T YOU GIVE ME THE TIME?!”

The crowd had fallen silent to the towering android. The only one that seemed to have words was the second officer that ran up, unholstering his taser. “U-Unattend android! Stay on the ground or you will b-be tased!” he demanded, pointing it directly at TJT. “Use of a proxy is illegal and warrants arrest! You will be detained until we contact your retainer!”

This wasn’t a time for TJT to plead his case. Something horrifying just happened and he needed to have it looked over immediately. When he didn’t obey the first time, the officer didn’t bother with a second warning. He fired the taser, but TJT had already stepped aside and narrowly avoided the pins.

“I'm sorry,” he whistled low, an apology only meant for the figure that once was Yui. The image of their smoldering shell was captured by his shuttering camera eye, to be carried with him like a burning scar. He turned his heel and started running away from them. He ignored the commands of the police, veering into a dark alley, then vaulting over the short wall to the other street.

He could scarcely apologize to the dozens of people he knocked over, plus one unfortunate cat he spooked in the street. Sirens were going to follow him soon, but these were his streets. TJT pulled up dozens of different maps, evaluating his escape while he was still running. The cars were still coming and TJT wasn’t going to allow them to spot him. He disappeared into a blocked off alley, pulled off a heavy rain grate, and jumped right in. He already had the map in mind and he kept running out of the urban underground to the city.

He leaned against the wall of the waterway, listening as sirens drove by and the echoes of police bounced on the walls. “Shit… shit…” he muttered, sliding down the wall. He pulled the small holo-glamour chip out of his neck, inspecting it in the glow of his eyes. It was blackened on the silver and the tiny light no longer blinked. “Well… guess it’s gonna be a while until I can go back up.” 

He was clicking again, the sounds of his thoughts loud in his hiding place. _ ‘This is a hell of a lot worse than I thought it’d be,’ _ he thought, pulling up the snapshots in his head.  _ ‘Why… why did it do this? Why haven’t I seen this before?’ _

He read and reread the overlapping pages of numbers. _ ‘Contingency learning was cut off. Repetitive procedural learning being viewed as irrational. Corrective stoppers are placed without cause or reason. And this happened between two separate models.’ _

TJT mimicked a sigh and watched the clouds pass over the sewer grate. _ ‘Two androids suffering the same fail state. Virus, maybe? No, no. Hachi got it from a mismatched update, but Yui was a new model. Hatsu said something about a workshop and Akane told me about how their personality changed...’ _

He looked over the corrupted lines of code again, particularly one tree of thought. One snapshot was Hachi's safety protocol and the other a piece of Yui's care directive. Normally a healthy tasking pool would have hundreds of pathways to choose from, depending on the scenario and its best approach. Hachi's pathways had been irreparably blocked off and pathways were blackened out. TJT found himself having to chip away all the deeply rooted coding just to bring Hachi back in his dive.

Yui however was a different story. Her pathways were made entirely unavailable, some even going as far as to create new ones. The damage done was immense, leaking into all other facets of her functionality. There was no helping them, not even with all the time in the world. But what caught TJT off guard was the immaculate implementation of the root of their programming. It wasn't caused by a clumsy virus or poorly programmed third party application. It was placed very carefully as part of both androids operating systems from one source: The Iwari Intelligence Company.

“Son of a bitch,” he cursed aloud. This was bigger than clearing up pop-ups from porn sites and shitty third party spyware. This was a product of the IIC. Skillful programming that was horribly butchered and ravenously changing. Whatever was going on, whatever this thing was, he needed a better eye to look at it. There was only one person he knew could help fix it. She was going to chew him out for bringing this home, but that wouldn’t deter him. Not when he could still feel the voice of nothing calling to him.  _ Recode…  _

His internal map shifted to pull up an old blueprint of the sewer to a train station. He’d have to wait until nighttime before he could ride home now. It was going to be a long trip to get home and he could only guess how she would react to this. “I’ve been away for so long and this is how I’m planning to greet her,” he chirped to himself, the sound like a light sigh. “Sho....”

**_END CHAPTER 2_ **

  
  



	3. R3: Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your patience! We will be continuing our story by introducing Hisho! 
> 
> WARNING: Please read with caution as this chapter does delve into aspects of kidnapping and domestic violence.

Implementing operating system Iwari Tech v 6.2 now.

Implementing…

Loading…

Loading…

Iwari Tech v 6.2 incompatible. Reboot system now?

“Goddammit, please.”

Rebooting…

Rebooting…

You are attempting to implement a new operating system. Failure to implement may result in software failure. Do you wish to continue?  
“Yes, yes, hurry up already.”

Implementing operating system Iwari Tech 6.3 now.

Implementing…

A haggard gaunt man loomed over the dirty keyboard, his cracked fingernails digging into his palms as he watched the numbers scrawl across the screen. It had been like this, day in and day out, for so long. He fell asleep so often at his desk that the polish had worn away where his head laid. His hidden office behind a wall of books was large and filled with art and marble. Yet it was marred by empty food containers and scores of scribbled copy paper crumpled up. He didn’t dare let anyone come in to clean his space. Not at the risk of possibly losing a piece to this puzzle.  
His thin greasy hair had been pulled back into a haphazard ponytail and his thin cheeks were covered with sparse stubble. The pressure has been incredible lately. He had to give them something, anything, new. This has to work.

Loading…

This has to work.

Loading…

This has to--

Iwari Tech v 6.3 incompatible. Reboot system now?

“Why won’t you work?!” Saito lifted his glass touch keyboard and threw it across the room. The clear glass board shattered into millions of tiny shards, scattering into all the disposable food containers and crumpled papers. He was breathing hard now, his eyes bloodshot and wide awake. “Why isn’t this working? There has to be something to make this work! I have all the pieces; how did you make it work?!”   
He heaves, empty of tears but wracked with frustration. His sobbing was dry and he was gasping for air. He looked at the android he had plugged into his multiple computers, their face lit up with a failed loading bar. It was mocking him, shining a proud trophy of all of his continuous failures. This model was supposed to be out six months ago and he couldn’t buy any more time.

“Maybe… Maybe I could just use a little more? Maybe I just don’t have the right pieces. Yeah… yeah, maybe that could work,” he spoke quietly. “Not gonna take too much, not too much...” He walked to a tower of fresh keyboards and pulled one out of the box. He slammed it on the desk and synced it up, the bright lights shining on his thin face.  
He moved his cursor to open a USB drive holding a folder within a folder, within a password locked dropbox, and finally came up with his treasure. It was a file of scanned papers, some crooked and faded from the light. He had told himself to stop dipping so many times, and yet it was here where he found his salvation. This was his inspiration, his ill-gotten gift; These pages were his lifelines, but he was running out of slack. This would be the last time, he promised himself.

Scrolling through the pages, he swiped over several lines to mirror them to his open task. “Yes… yes this could work!” Hope spread fast as his fingers were flying across the board, erasing large chunks of coding and copying new lines. He arranged them with an unnatural speed, his eyes twitching and following each line without reading it. Minutes of manic typing presented him with version 6.4 and he was all too eager to try and shove it into the overcrowded head of his android.

He pressed enter and watched their glass dim and glow to reboot. The loading bar popped up again and started to slowly fill. “Come on, work. Please, please work...” he muttered, tapping his fingers rapidly. The bar’s percentage filled at a steady pace, making Saito lean in closer to the screen. 46%… 47%… 48%…

Iwari Tech v 6.4 incompatible. Reboot system now?

“YOU USELESS MACHINE!” he finally snapped and grabbed the android by the neck. He violently pulled them from their connection and threw them to the floor. Their faceplate broke apart as they hit the floor, the fall twisting their neck in an unnatural angle. Their screen flickered in bright colors and static before shutting off with a definitive click. Saito continued going on a rampage, sweeping all of his notes onto the floor and tossing random metal pieces and glass.

Soon the entire lab was trashed, leaving the man standing in the middle of his rage. Though in his eyes, the destruction didn’t register in his mind. Instead, all he could see was the massive monitor before him with a bright red window blinking, flashing to mock his failure. Next time. Next time, he’d figure it out. Next time he’d find the right piece.

He pulled a small bag from his coat pocket and dipped the contents into his palm. He was quick to inhale it, instantly feeling the rage shift to motivation while his heart picked up the pace. Stepping out of the dingy and dark lab behind a wall of frosted glass and steel, Saito came into a lavish office. It was beautifully kept, but ultimately just a ruse to keep people out of his personal work. He needed privacy, a quiet place where the idiot board members couldn’t touch his things. Not like they would understand any of his work, to begin with. 

But now they were getting antsy again. His beta tests aren’t coming out in the direction he wanted and he had already asked for more time. Nearly a damn decade worth of time. They wanted something better, something shiny and new, but it just wasn’t coming out. He had hit a wall and those goddamn sacred notes were becoming more and more useless.

“I can’t fix this,” he said to himself. “I can’t fix this. I need a better version. I just need more time, more information.” He looked over to the chair that sat before his massive desk. Sitting in it was his personal android, their face looking to the ground with their hands in their lap. They had been powered down for some time now, the light on their chest still glimmering as they perpetually charged. Saito cracked his neck and walked back into his disheveled lab to the massive stack of computers. He pulled out the flash drive from the largest one, then walked back into the light of the office.

He roughly pulled the android forward with drive in hand, revealing the multiple USB ports just where their neck and skull met. “You’re going to make this work,” he said while plugging it into a scratched and abused slot. “It’s just going to have to wait a little longer...” The flash drive blinks orange for a short moment before turning to a solid green, then Saito pulls it out.

He needed to take a break and this was the best way to make sure his work would stay out of the hands of his nosy investors. It may have had the Iwari name on the program, but it was his baby, his creation. He had to keep it secret before the world could look upon his, and only his, new masterpiece. Pressing the power button on their neck, he shoved them back in the chair and stood back. Their boot up sequence went by smoothly with a pleasant tone chirping as blue digital eyes blinked awake.

“Good morning, Mr. Iwari,” they greeted with a happy chirp. “It is currently 0830. Do you require--” They looked around the room and beeped softly. “Oh. This is your office. How long have I been stationary?”

“Long enough for your clock is off,” he dismissed. “It’s in 1645.”

“My apologies for the incorrect time. Shall I connect to the network to fix it?” Hisho replied, another pleasing tone coming from them. 

“No. You know to stay off any public connections. It was trouble enough scrubbing you after that joke of a programmer tampered with your head,” he said rubbing his face. “Any network connections you make will be in the privacy of my home, is that understood, Hisho?”

The android called Hisho chirped solemnly before perking up again. “My apologies. It was my mistake allowing Mr. Tanaka to look over your work,” they bowed their head. “But I must remind you that without a persistent connection, I won’t be able to receive any IIC updates--”

“Your only updates are to come from me. Don’t let yourself be tricked into letting anyone inside your head. I won’t let some second rate hacker take what belongs to me,” Saito’s voice trailed off. He sounded as if he was talking to himself again, muttering incoherently.

Hisho’s face, though shining with neon blue against the black glass, portrayed an image of concern. It was happening again. “Your heart rate seems to be erratic, Mr. Iwari. Are you all alright? Do you require medical assistance?” How kind and concerned they sounded. It sounded like grinding glass to Saito’s ears.

Despite that, Saito could barely hear Hisho. Not because they were speaking too low, but that their voice was going by too quickly. He shook his head and sniffled deeply. “No. No, don’t you dare call a doctor,” he waved, turning back to his office. “I… I’m fine, Hisho. I just need to stay here. I’m not done yet, not yet.”

Hisho leaned slightly to see the destruction seeable from the opened lab door. Their screen blinked with an exclamation point, then to a loading screen. There was the sound of a pleasant chirp before their standard face returned. “Would you like to contact the cleaning ser--”

“I have made myself clear in the past to not contact anyone when you are here!” he snapped at Hisho, his hand quick to grab their neck. “This is sensitive work and I will not have idiot hands throwing away my notes!”

The android cocked their head back a bit to simulate a flinch. The reaction was delayed, the motion distracting the programmer from his rage. Saito realized that breaking the first android could easily be swept under the rug. Breaking two though… he let them go with a shove and walked away with his hands in his hair. “I… I’m sorry, Hisho. It’s just the stress talking. This new operating system isn’t working properly. It’s… frustrating me.” He looked over to the android with a strained face. “You will help me, won’t you? You won’t let me keep being frustrated, will you?”   
Hisho nodded, then stood up slowly and bowed lightly. “I apologize for my impudence,” they quickly said. “If it is my assistance you require, I will do my best to help.”

“Good… yes, good,” Saito muttered, looking back into his lab. “I just uploaded a new set of test code in your data bank. Look over it and fix whatever is making it malfunction.”

Hisho glanced over the newly introduced text in their head, keeping it running in the background. “Are you sure you would like me to finish this? The results from the last run proved to be incomplete despite my additions—“

“I told you to fix it and you will fix it. I don’t care what the last test results were. All you need to know is that they didn’t work and you need to make them work. Understood?” Saito had stepped face to the glass, towering over the android. Despite the lack of muscle and his sickly appearance, the vibration in his pupils and the shaking in his fist was enough for Hisho to cower. They needed to tread carefully, unsure of where Saito’s tipping point was this time. Hisho didn’t want to go through another unscheduled repair this month.

It was a tone Hisho was all too familiar with this strained and graveled voice. They knew this behavior well. It was unpredictable at best, making short replies and immediate obedience the best paths to avoid agitation. They could register that his heart rate was showing as erratic and out of sync. They analyzed the best route of least resistance and simply nodded in reply.

“I understand,” they nodded. “You… seem tired, Saito? Perhaps we can go home tonight? The plants have not been watered in a while and the fish feeder must be empty by now--”

“Home… yes, home. You can go home and analyze the system without interruption. Then I can stay here and keep working. Yes… yes, that’d be fine.” By now Saito was rambling to himself, inching back into the nest he called his research lab. 

“But-- But sir, I cannot leave the premises without your--”

“FINE! Fine, fine,” he exhaled. Saito cleared off the waste on his unused mahogany desk and found the call panel. Pressing the button, a nervous voice picked up on the other end. 

“T-Toshi Tanaka speaking. How can I help you, Mr. Iwari?”

“My android need accompaniment back home, Tanaka. They are to be dropped off at the gate and you are to return the moment they enter the domicile, is that clear?”

“Y-Yes, sir! I still have s-some coding I need to clean up before I go. Um, when should I--”

“I didn’t ask you what you were doing, Tanaka. Are you really going to ask me questions when I’m giving you this chance to get in my good graces? Stop what you are doing and take them home, NOW. And Tanaka? If I catch you tampering with Hisho again, I’ll be sure my legal team leaves you with absolutely nothing to come home to.” Saito closed the call without another word and turned to Hisho. “And don’t you let him take any extra stops. I know you like to distract him by going to other places.”

The android winced with a guilty beep. “It is simply for his own well being, sir. He has been having trouble focusing at work since his recent separation. Is it not my responsibility that everyone under the IIC umbrella is in an optimal mental condition to work?”

“No. Outside problems are not the concern of the company. The only thing you are required to care about is fixing what I give you. Not patting a miserable code monkey’s back because he can’t leave his problems at the door.” Saito’s skin was starting to tighten and itch. He turned his back to Hisho and walked towards his hidden office. “You are to contact me as soon as progress has been made and for nothing else.

Hisho watched the sliding steel door close, leaving them alone in the office. They looked over the mess of data that Saito had introduced into their system, shuddering at the pure unintelligible mess that had been written up. “It would seem that his attempts are getting worse as of late. If I can translate this, perhaps he will be able to rest better knowing it is finished,” they affirmed with themselves. A knock at the door interrupted their process, prompting them to stand up. Hisho strode across the office and opened up to find a short portly young man on the other side. They chirped with a delighted expression. 

“Greetings, Toshi! I do apologize if I have taken you from your work, but it is greatly appreciated. Are you ready to go?” they asked him.

The sweaty man smoothed his greasy hair back, clearing his throat before answering quietly. “I-It’s fine. We can go now,” he said, looking aside to the floor. Hisho titled their head, taking note of the strange body language. The programmer seemed turned inward, his shoulders hunched and his heartbeat pumping quickly. Based on the last time he had been summoned to Saito’s office, Hisho could assume that being here was making him quite nervous. They stepped out of the office and began to walk. Hopefully stepping away from such an anxiety-inducing place would make the young man less nervous. 

However, as they took the elevator down and came out of the glittering glass skyscraper, there was no change in Toshi’s disposition. He opened the door to an awaiting company car, stepping inside the back without waiting for them. Hisho followed suit and took a place next to Toshi, though he promptly moved closer to be against the window. Once they had both settled in, the driverless care began to move. A screen on the back seat showed a map with the small car icon following a blue path. 

There was only silence between the two of them, Hisho facing forward and Toshi slumped with his pockets in his ill-fitted jacket. Every few minutes, Hisho would side glanced at Toshi, hoping he would start talking again. ‘Or perhaps I should start the conversation? That may relax him,’ Hisho determined, turning to him. “I did not get to apologize for our last meeting. Saito is rather possessive of sharing his work with others. It had looked so similar to what you were doing that I had hoped it would help,” they began. 

Toshi didn’t respond. Instead, he turned his back to the android. Hisho whistled low as they began searching for other relevant topics. In the past, Toshi found some comfort in talking about his troubled relationship, though Hisho was not able to give any sort of advice. “Have you spoken to Hana lately? I understand that open communication between couples often results in a resolution. Perhaps there is something that you two--”

“I-I did talk to her,” he finally spoke. “I’m gonna see her tonight, hopefully.” He shifted his hands out of his pockets, pulling out his clear glass phone. The blue glow highlighted his stubbled face, but what he was typing was hidden. 

“That is good! I was concerned about how the stress has been impacting you. Is there anything you would like to talk about? It can stay between us this time. I… did not mean for our last conversation to end with you being written up,” they confessed, hoping that their tone would convey their sympathies. Normally Toshi was good practice for that. But he didn’t reply to Hisho at all. He continued typing away, shielding his screen. 

Humming gently, Hisho nestled into the plush seat and folded their hands in their lap. As the two of them were carried them along the blue path, Hisho opened up the new program and began their work. The information that Saito had entrusted with them had some new pieces horribly intermingled with an old basic program nearly a decade old. They were ‘jagged’ pieces, not fitting well with the base code.   
They sighed heavily and started to rearrange the lines of half-written code. ‘How frustrating this must be,’ they mused as they began to bridge the gaps. ‘His mind goes to so many places and it shows in his work. I should say something. I have said something. What else can I do to help him?’

They moved the windows in their vision to look at Toshi one more time. So rarely did they get to hear others speak to them; it comforted them to listen to how humans talked and gestured. With how much Saito had been keeping them locked away between the office and house, they relished in human interaction. The current interaction with Toshi was… disappointing. 

They wrote a line between two red ones, beeping delightfully when it turned both lines green again. It was only two of 647 broken lines, but it would be worth it if Saito didn’t have to fret about it anymore. Maybe there were other things they could do to help him. Provided that Saito decided to come home this evening, he would be wanting dinner. He seemed so thin lately. Perhaps something high in protein and freshly prepared. Maybe a little sushi? That would require ordering some ahead of time. 

Hisho attempted to connect to the universal network, only to receive a pop-up warning of their lack of authorization. “Ah, that is right,” they reminded themselves aloud, causing Toshi to flinch. “Oh, I am sorry! I was simply remarking to myself. Mr. Iwari has disabled my ability to connect to open networks. It makes things a tad difficult for day-to-day tasks.”

“R-really?” Toshi asked, coming out of his curled up ball. “That’s… that’s unfortunate, isn’t it?” His voice came out softer and relaxed, prompting Hisho to continue the conversation. 

“It is, but it is for the better. I was simply musing dinner preparations for Mr. Iwari. Perhaps there is still something at home that can be prepared instead. Something healthier than those frozen snacks and strange unhealthy drinks he consumes--” Hisho looked to find Toshi staring tapping into his phone, this time with more fervor. 

They sighed and let the conversation trail off in favor of returning to work. Still, they had the recent months in mind, pondering Saito’s irregular behavior. It was nothing short of strange in the past year or so, and it wasn’t hard to blame it on the substance abuse. Their retainer’s level of violence seemed to have heightened steadily over time and more than once did Hisho have to clean up the pieces of their unfortunate brethren. He was normally so subdued and quiet once. Was it the pressure of this broken program that had been plaguing him? Or was it something that’s finally been building up over the past decade-- 

The car made a sudden turn that threw Hisho out of their line of thought. They looked down at the screen on the back of the seat. It was mapped out with their final destination being the Iwari home. However, the little car icon had strayed off the blue path. The street the car had driven into from was empty and cramped between buildings, and the map wasn’t recalculating. “Toshi, I believe something is wrong with the car it has come off the path,” they commented, pointing to the screen. "Allow me to diagnose the problem." 

Hisho reached for it and found Toshi quickly grabbing their wrist. “N-no, wait! If there was a glitch, there shouldn’t be a problem in fixing it. Let me do it,” he feverishly said. Toshi unbuckled his seatbelt and plugged his phone directly into the box behind the monitor. The screen flickered with his mass texting, then turned black. Hisho chirped in concern and peered out the window. They had come out on the other side of the dark road but wasn’t attempting to get back on track.

Hisho began cycling through contingency plans. Step in the front seat and take manual control of the vehicle? Call the authorities of a possibly defective smart car? Push Toshi aside to take over fixing the glitch? Just as they were dwindling a final answer, the map came back on the screen, the car icon back on a blue path. “Oh! Thank goodness, you fixed the problem. Well done, Toshi!” they congratulated him. 

But the young man said nothing as he settled back into his seat. His hands were gripped tight on his phone, his eyes facing forward and shoulders rigid. The hum of the car came between them, the sounds of the populated city fading out. Hisho saw the buildings become dilapidated and the potholes in the street rumbled the vehicle. The car turned into a large empty lot, coming to a slow stop. Hisho watched the map change once more as a cute robot mascot hopped onto the screen. “You have arrived at your destination: Iwari, Home. Thank you for choosing IIC to guide you!” it chimed before the screen turned black. 

“Toshi, this is the wrong location,” Hisho quickly said. “I do not doubt your abilities, but I do believe the issue has taken us to the wrong part of HyRyse.”

Toshi held his hand over his mouth, his leg bouncing rapidly on the floor. “Y-You’re right. You’re s-so right. Maybe I typed something wrong?” His voice was hoarse and panicked. His hand shook as he held up his phone and cord to them. “C-Can you hook up and see w-where I went wrong.”

Hisho took the device without hesitation. “Of course!” they nodded. “I am sure it was a simple missed number. Please, do not worry. We shall be redirected momentarily.” They swiftly plugged in the cable to the base of their neck and swiped to unlock the phone. The screen shifted and asked for permission to link with Hisho’s mind. That final press of their thumb was the last thing they had control over.

Hisho’s head was filled with sudden warning signs, each one indicating a lost connection for their limbs and appendages. Their body was frozen in place, completely rigid. Their screen displayed a bright red exclamation point as their eyes glanced over to Toshi. They attempted to speak and found only static and fast chirps coming out of them. ‘Toshi?! Toshi, what is happening?!’ they wanted to cry out. Their attention turned to the phone held in their clenched hand. It had cracked from their grip, but there was an application that had been opened. Hisho could see a display of their body and all their limbs were highlighted bright red.

“I can’t b-believe it worked. Oh my god, it worked!” Toshi exclaimed in disbelief. He pried the phone from Hisho’s grip and dialed a number. He could barely contain himself when the person on the other line answered. 

“Hana? Hana, it’s Toshi. I know y-you didn’t want me to call you, but listen! I’m gonna be coming into some money soon. We’ll be able to erase my debt as soon as tonight, I promise! Please, Hana? Please, I promise this isn’t like what I tried to pull earlier this month. This time the money’s going to be good and it’s going to be real. So… s-so you’ll give me that second chance, right?”   
He paused to listen to the quiet replies, then sobbed happily. “Th-thank you, baby! I promise I’m gonna make it right for you! I-I love you, Hana. I’ll see you tomorrow!” He ended the call, then looked to Hisho with a deliriously happy face. “Hisho, I… I don’t know how to thank you! You’re going to single-handedly save my marriage!”

“Whatever you are thinking, Toshi, it is not worth it!” Hisho tried to explain. Their words were lost to the sounds of whistles and chirps.

He didn't bother to ask them to repeat the string of noise. “You have no idea how awful this month has been for me,” Toshi continued, tapping on the screen to highlight Hisho’s legs a bright yellow. They were functional once more, but not to Hisho’s frantic command. As Toshi stepped out of the car, Hisho found themselves following right after him against their will. The cable dangling between them like a leash to a dog. Much to Hisho’s despair, the smart car backed up out and exited the lot. 

“I-I’m sorry if this all seems strange, Hisho,” Toshi went on, dragging them behind as they came to the sidewalk. “B-But you have to understand that I didn’t want it to come to this in more ways than one. I had a start-up business for a while, you see. It was just like Iwari Intelligence, b-but something tangible, something that the little guys could build code on, you know?!”

Hisho could only listen and beep helplessly to the people walking by. None of them took a second look at the android walking beside their ‘retainer’. What would be strange about that?  
“But it costs money to start a business. A lot of it failed in the first year, so I kept borrowing and borrowing. I even took this job just to keep our heads above water! But the-those sharks… every time I came into a little bit of money to pay them, they keep hounding me about interest,” he angrily muttered. “I even thought that if I could use a little of what you were showing me, they could see I was making progress and leave me alone! But then Sai- M-Mr. Iwari caught me… I nearly lost my job because of you saying something, Hisho.”

Toshi pulled the cable and nearly made Hisho stumble. “Hana said she wanted to leave me after I told her I was on probation. I-I say a lot of things about her and her needs to be lavished, but I need her, Hisho. I need her to stay with me and I promised her I would find the money to make it all go away,” he stopped, sharply turning to them. The crazed smile on his reddened face initiated a flight mode within Hisho. Their internal processing was stressed out enough trying to block access from the phone, but being unable to escape his grasp was overclocking them. 

“I-It should have hit me sooner, really! I’ve seen how many androids that b-bastard Iwari breaks and tosses! H-He won’t miss you at all! He probably has dozens of your prototypes. So what’s the-the harm in taking just one?” Toshi held Hisho at the shoulder, tears dripping down his cheeks. “You’ll b-be my savior Hisho! I’m gonna take you to the Black District and finally get those wolves off my back! A-And you should be happy, too! No more h-having to deal with that bastard, Iwari!” 

Toshi swiped at his cracked phone, tapping on the android voice connection to unlock it. “Well? Well, what do you have to say to that?!”

Hisho could only stare at the disheveled man. Logically, they could understand his logic. To him, this was the most immediate and quickest solution to his distressing situation. There had to certainly be a more legal way to go about this, even if they would lead to a long term of hardship. Hisho understood this… but still was compelled to self-preservation. “I am Hisho. My retainer is Saito Iwari of the Iwari Intelligence Company. Theft of company property will result in and not limited to probation, arrest, legal action, restitution, and/or termination,” they recited without skipping a beat. “Please, Toshi! You are my friend! This isn’t the way to do this--”

“SHUT UP!” Toshi yanked the cable harder this time, pulling Hisho forward. With their arms rigid to their sides, they couldn’t catch themselves from the sidewalk below. There was the sharp sound of glass breaking and Hisho could hear Toshi panicking. “No, no, NO! Please still work, please still work!” He hoisted them up to see a spiderweb of cracks across Hisho’s faceplate. Purple plasma oozed between the hairlines, and Hisho’s vision was limited to a quarter view. Toshi pulled them to their feet, grabbing their head with shaking hands. 

“Shit! Shit, okay, uh… that-this is still okay! This will still be alright! This isn’t your original glass anyway! A-And they’re only gonna care about the shell anyways!” he rationalized, his words interrupted by gulps of air. “Come on, Hisho! I can’t let you d-distract me anymore!” He locked their voice once more and hurried them to follow in silence. Along the way, Hisho continued to chirp and whistle out to anyone that would listen. This continued all the way to the train station, but no one did more than lift their head to acknowledge the sound. 

The train that Toshi dragged them to was in the deepest parts of the station. The walls were covered in wild and territorial graffiti. The other humans and androids that were present stood a distance from one another. Some of the people were wearing holo-glamours over their faces that flickered when they turned their heads. Others simple face masks with strange symbols of spiders on them. Their metal companions had wrappings or clothing on them, covering distinct markings and serial numbers. Hisho was quick to call out to the other androids, but none would respond to them. Even the humans that shot dirty looks at the noisy robot and the sweating man did nothing to approach them.

‘Please, someone, anyone? Why will they not talk to me?’ Hisho pleaded internally, whistling mournfully. The platform rumbled hard with the approach of a black train car. The doors opened and the passengers patiently lined up to come aboard. It earned Hisho and Toshi a few irritated glances when he stumbled into the car, his nervous apologies making people shy away. The anxiety of being so close to people got to him, so Toshi walked to the further car of the train with Hisho. 

He plopped down on the furthest seat, breathing heavily as he made Hisho take the spot beside him. “I-It’ll just be a couple of hours now. Just a couple of hours and this will all be over,” he hysterically muttered to himself. “I’m… I’m so exhausted. Hisho, just sit here and we’ll be there in no time.” 

That couple of hours had come and gone now. Toshi had moved to another line of seats and was slumped over. He had left the phone next to Hisho, the screen still showing that he had incapacitated them. It was an agonizing mess inside their head, cycling through half-formed options to escape. They attempted to connect to any form of network, only for that wretched warning coming up to block them.   
Hisho had no options. They were frozen in place, trying to figure when they could even run away. What even was the Black District? Toshi was talking about selling their shell. What would happen to their mind? What would happen to all of Saito’s work? Who would stop to listen to their pleading? Would… anyone even believe them?

The door to the next car opened up, alerting Hisho with a curious beep. The steps were metal and hollow with an uneven gait. The sound of persistent clicking followed them, and it pinged in their head that whoever it was that entered wasn’t another person, but another android dressed in a dirty white suit and pink dress shirt. Hisho waited to hear another set of steps where their human would be following. But he was alone, and the door slid shut. 

Another whisper of curious beeping followed as Hisho listened to them take a seat across. Instead of properly sitting, they slouched and emitted a heavy sigh. Hisho tilted their head while the other android got comfortable. In his hands, he was tossing a small black chip back and forth, only to pause and look it over. “Gonna cost me a fortune to fix,” the android sighed, surprising Hisho. The tone of his voice had little stilt in the dialect and almost came out as smooth as human speech.

The larger android noticed Hisho facing their direction and waved lazily. “Hey. Don’t know if you know this, but you got a little crack right there.” Hisho chirped low and confused. Was that an attempt of... humor? “Late night for them, huh?” he remarked, pointing to the sleeping programmer. “You know, he shouldn’t be sleeping here. It’s a good way to lose a wallet. Not that he won’t lose another way where we’re going.”

Words were lost to Hisho, but this opened up a new option. They couldn’t see well, they couldn’t speak normal words, but there was finally someone who was speaking to them. “I do not even know where this train is going,” Hisho spoke in a series of urgent chirps and beeps. “The man I am with, he has absconded me against my will!”

He straightened up when they started a long line of musical code. “Woah, hang on,” he asked, digital eye blinking. “You’re not with him?”

“I do not know what he is using, but he has disabled my motor functions so I may only follow him,” they explained. “Please, can you help me?”

He inspected the sleeping man and then back to Hisho. “The cracks on your face... did he do that to you?” he asked while gesturing at their face. He replied in a lower tone, words shifting over to chirps and whistles. The switch over to beeping gave comfort to Hisho as they welcomed the privacy.

“Yes,” Hisho whistled. They shifted their visible eye to the phone at their side. “He had spoken about taking me somewhere called the Black District to sell me. Is that where you are going as well, uh...”

“TJT. Just TJT will do,” he nodded. “What’s your name, sibling?”

“I am called Hisho by my retainer. My true retainer,” they admitted.

TJT leaned forward with a deep whistle. “Stealing you to sell you off. He didn’t even do you the service of disconnecting you,” he said low, with a tone hinted towards anger. “Hisho, a live android doesn’t belong in Black District. Think of it as a trading district, But most of the trade-in weapons, drugs, skin, and expensive, slightly illegal luxuries. Like a supermarket of human sin and expensive augments made cheap... that, and illegally farmed lobsters, those are quite popular.”

“It is not common practice in this ‘Black District’ to sell androids?” Hisho chirped.

“Hell no, not ones that are still alive,” TJT said, crossing his arms. “Normally it’s just dead shells and broken models. Even then it’s difficult to trade. You have to be scrubbed clean, find a buyer, erase a serial code, and that’s even if you can convince someone it’s worth it. But no, not a single merchant would try to sell an android with an active mind.” He looked to the man snoring away and displayed an ‘X’ mark across his glass half. “Why is he trying to sell you?”

Hisho wished they could clench their hands in a display of disappointment “He sees it as a financial opportunity,” they sadly beeped. “He has an inconsolable debt, as he has put it. This is an attempt to reconcile it.”

“You haven’t tried getting in touch with your retainer or the cops?” TJT whistled with an upturn.

“I am unable to access any network outside of my private designated ones. Even when I attempted to call upon others, they have chosen to ignore me.”

“Unfortunately it makes sense. Most people don’t want others to recognize them going a place like the Black District,” TJT bitterly chirped. “Ha… humans love to participate in debauchery, but would keel over if someone recognized them on the outside.” He stood up and walked before Hisho, picking up the phone beside them. He tapped on the screen and cursed when a long passcode came up. “Shit. He’s got you locked up tight.”

“So you cannot help me,” Hisho concluded with a long saddened chirp.

“Didn’t say that. Trust me, I’m not gonna let this guy try to fuck you over.” TJT let a heavy sigh and knelt to their eye level. “I’ve never seen a model like you. Goddamn, what did he do to you?” he commented quietly while looking at their screen. “You have no idea what this place will do to you, Hisho. If you land in the wrong hands, your mind is going to get warped. Worse off, you’d be reformatted. Lucky for you, I’m here to help and to fuck this guy over instead.”

Hisho was taken aback by the bluntness of this other android. “What will you do?” they beeped quickly. “What is going to happen?”

“Nothing yet. It’ll be scary, but you’re gonna want to be on the other side of the gate if you want your chance of escaping to go up. If you say anything before getting inside, they’ll just boot both of you out and he might try selling you off another way. But inside the Black District, the rules are going to be more in your favor than on the outside.”

“So I am to go along with this charade,” Hisho replied with slightly harsher whistles. “And what will transpire then?”

“There’s only one place that deals in android trade called The Den. This house is thorough in what they do. They don’t do a once over like a pawn shop. They like making sure that what they’re getting is clean. The minute they plug you in and find out this guy isn’t your retainer, they’ll report it to the Madam.” 

“The… Madam? But what about the authorities?” 

“Trust me, she doesn’t have the time or desire to deal with them,” TJT waved. “And because that guy over there tried to bring in stolen merch to sell AKA you, he’ll get the boot and you’ll be shipped back to your original home. Believe me, I’ll make sure of it myself.”

“You seem so sure of this. This is not your first time doing this,” they commented.

TJT hummed softly. “You can say I do my best to look out for my android siblings out there. A lot of us get tossed around, broken down, and stripped for parts. All because humans still think of us as disposable,” he answered, looking down to his mismatched hands. “If I can keep androids from being broken down and get them back to a place they feel safe in, I’m gonna do it. It gets me in trouble, but it’s worth it.”

Hisho fell quiet once more. This android was so vastly different from them. His range of tone, his gestures; how was he so much more advanced than themselves? Who had programmed him to be so… human? TJT shook his head and leaned forward. He started to fish through his coat pocket and pulled out a bulk of business cards. He whistled a tune while flipping through them and pulled out one. Hisho barely caught a glimpse of the golden fox mask on the deep blue card. 

TJT placed the card right on top of the phone. “If I were any judge of character, I’d say this guy will follow this card right where you need to be.”   
Hisho’s head was filled with new possibilities added to their contingency planning. All these new options gave them a sense of peace, knowing now there was a chance of escape. “I do not know the proper method in thanking you,” they chittered. “Perhaps my retainer can speak to yours about a reward--”

“Don’t have one. At least, not in the same sense most do. Besides if I started handing out her name I’m sure she’d drop me in the middle of the ocean,” TJT laughed, once again startling Hisho. “I don’t know how long you’ve been online, Hisho. You’re gonna learn that a lot of humans are out for themselves. But I can promise you that you’ll come out of this okay. This promise is one I’m making to you and you alone.” TJT took Hisho’s limp hand and very carefully wrapped his pinky around theirs.

Hisho curiously beeped and tilted their head. “What are you doing?” they asked, peering at their hand.

“It’s called a pinky promise. Someone once told me that promises are unbreakable once you did this,” TJT chuckled and let them go.

“You promise a lot to someone you have just met. There must be something you want in exchange,” Hisho questioned, staring blankly at their hand.

TJT hummed and watched the trees grow thicker with orange lights glowing in the future. A gentle chime played on the PA system. “Our time’s up. We'll soon and it’s a long process getting inside the district.”  
Hisho heard his footsteps walk away and the door to the next car open. “TJT,” they called out, then hearing the steps stop. “Thank you for your help.”

“Nah, don’t thank me yet. I’m just glad I found you. If I can help you get back home, it'll make today feel less painful.”

“Ah... then I will be seeing you again?” Hisho hummed.

“If everything all goes according to plan, sure,” TJT shrugged. “Just stay calm and get to The Den.” He took one step over the line and paused briefly. “Hisho… have you ever heard a voice in your head? Recently at least?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“A voice, you know. Something telling you this is wrong or forcing you in a different direction. Just asking out of curiosity,” TJT asked.

Hisho hummed a low whistle, shaking their head. “I have not experienced such a thing,” Hisho firmly beeped. “Why do you ask?”

“Just asking for a friend. Stay safe out there, Hisho.” He then shut the door behind him and stepped into the next empty car. Finding an empty seat he laid down and placed his hands behind his head. TJT quietly whistled a tune and stared at the ceiling, processing Hisho’s replies.

“So it's not an automatic implant yet, huh?” he quietly asked himself. “But since when does the IIC only do individual manual updates? So strange…” A small bell chimed over the P.A. system. The train was fast approaching its destination with only ten minutes left to spare. “Maybe she can help me figure it out…”


	4. R3: Chapter 4

The detective was treading a very thin line that night. He could easily be fired, disgraced, or even worse, come up empty-handed. That wasn’t enough to deter him from his mission. Aizawa may have been slightly drunk, his smooth plastic was slightly dirty, and his suit was crooked, but tonight he would be someone’s hero. The train came to a halt in the dark cavern, the passengers all standing up in an orderly fashion to shuffle out.

“Please form a line. You will be inspected for entry. Do not engage in conversation,” a robotic PA system announced as everyone poured into the dark train station. It was plainly decorated, black and red oni tapestry hanging from one wall while dragons hung from the other. Aizawa stared a little too long and winced painfully when the camera from his singular ocular port blinked. “Son of a bitch, stop it,” he whispered silently. He went to rub his ‘eye’, only to touch smooth plastic instead. He missed itching his face when shit like that happened. The involuntary shuttering of his internal camera went off again, and he cursed for it to stop. He needed to remain focused.

The line was moving steadily along and despite not wanting to be noticed more than he had to, Aizawa glanced around the room. The people coming in wore thick and heavy coats in dull colors. Wrappings and bandages covered recognizable markings on their faces. Even androids accompanying their retainers had black chalk swiped over their serial numbers.   
He looked around to see that many of the other passengers had similar, if not hidden adjustments. Augments in their face to show x-rays of parts of their skull, prosthetic limbs left and right, and he was quite certain he spotted another man wearing a broken faceplate, too. A broken as all hell one, but a faceplate nonetheless. He took a glance at Aizawa, then moved out of the car to the next. “Calm down, Aizawa. You go through this just trying to live normally. You’ll pass if this place caters to freaks like this,” he told himself. He couldn’t stop now. He was so close to finally coming face to face with the breaker of all of his cases.

And now Aizawa was right at the demon’s doorstep. His ass was numb from the long train ride. Caffeine and alcohol were fighting against each other for a nauseating high and low. Worst of all, his headache was a complete nightmare. He glanced behind him, many people keeping their eyes down. The line extended all the way to the barren train station and more people were lining up. Despite the number of people inside the dark red and black waiting room, it was dead silent. In front were only a couple more people and three heavy build men at the door.   
Two wore dark shades over their eyes, suits with a dark red shin against the black material, and their jaws had been replaced with shining, mechanical glass. In the middle was the tallest bouncer examining the incoming people. His eyes were seen scanning over the ‘guests’ and his own glass jaw was shifting colors. Aizawa’s eye twitched slightly, whirring inside his skull to focus on the middle one. He could hear the shuttering go off as it recorded the doorway. It was a headache and the noise was disruptive, but any kind of evidence he could gather this early was worth the pain.

‘Got an awful lot of security to let people in,’ he thought as the people before him handed over their belongings. ‘Who knew people were this desperate to keep their dirty little secrets.’ He held in a chuckle, then walked forward when the middle guard beckoned him forward. He stood before the massive bouncer and already he felt the scrutinizing glare from their cybernetic optics. Aizawa didn’t look much like the other plainly dressed people, but the way he carried himself was enough to make them suspicious.

The large doorman tapped something into the blue glass tablet, then spoke. “Cyborg or android?”

Aizawa was slightly taken aback by the bluntness, thankful that his plate showed no expression. “Cyborg. Get a lot of them coming here, or am I your first?” he snickered, trying to play it off.

The fu-dog guard was not amused. He stared at Aizawa up to his collar, then down to his shoes. “First time here? You come straight from work or something?” There were teeth etched into the glass and with every word he spoke, the lines lit up in a rainbow of colors.

Aizawa cleared his throat and loosened his dirty tie. “Ah, yeah,” he coughed and answered. “Was running a little late for the train. No time to change, ya know?”

“Right,” the guard muttered. “I’m gonna ask you questions and you’re gonna answer me. I won’t ask twice.”

“Whatever ya need to get me in,” Aizawa shrugged, his eye shuttering a close-up shot of the guy when he was looking down.

“First name?

“Aizawa.”

“Business, Pleasure, or Personal?”

“Ah… I guess personal?”

“Cash or Credit?”

“Cash.”

“I’ll be needing your right hand,” the fu-dog said as he held up a small black pod.

Aizawa chuckled when he showed him his right hand. It was solid metal from fingertip to shoulder, and he flexed his hand with a chuckle. “If you’re looking for blood, I might have some in my left,” he said, waving his flesh and bone hand.

Again, not a laugh. “Press your finger here for a mandatory blood test. If anything comes up positive, you will not be permitted, do you understand?”

“Ya won’t find anything, but go ahead,” he muttered. That was a bald-faced lie. He had been drinking only hours before, but the pops of coffee and the nap on the train should have flushed out most of it by now.

The heavyset guard gave him a scrutinizing look, the yellow in his eyes glimmering slightly. His glass jaw etched with fu-dog teeth hummed with color, vibrating with each syllable. “We like to be careful here,” he replied, taking the man’s hand. He pressed Aizawa’s index finger into the small, palm-sized device. A cable from the back of it ran behind the guard head. When he turned it on, the glass mask changed from a vibrant wavelength of color to a solid red line.

“3, 2, 1,” the guard timed and clicked a button. A small lancing needle quickly popped in and out, puncturing the skin and taking a blood sample. The prick made Aizawa hiss and pulled his hand away.

“Do I get a bandage after that?” he gruffly asked as he wiped the blood on his sleeve. The guard at the velvet rope ignored him, the line in his mask blinking again. It went from a soft yellow to a red-orange color.

“You’ve been drinking a lot?” he asked Aizawa. He could see the guard’s false eyes focus in on him, the yellow irises acting like a shuttering camera.

Aizawa was not about to let himself be intimidated. He was right at the gate of this wretched place and he was not going to let this obstacle stop him. “First time jitters,” he excused himself, scratching the scarring on his neck. “Heard a lot of good things about the ah… modding here, so I needed something to calm me down. I ain’t wasted.” He was taking a hell of a gamble, but he knew that the people coming here had mods no doctor in their right mind would give a person.

The guard gruffly hummed a little, then nodded. “Understood. You’re not too up there, but we’ll be keeping an eye on you. Otherwise, you’re clean,” he warned. The shining light shifted from red-orange to blue, then back to the speech waves. “I’ll need your phone, your ID, and anything that may be a recording device. Keep your cash in your pocket.” 

Aizawa did as follows and put his figurative life in the hands of the guard, discarding his wallet and smartphone. His hand however did not close. “I’m gonna need any memory cards, too,” the guard demanded and flexed his hand.

For the first time during this whole transaction, Aizawa hesitated. This whole mission hinged on gathering evidence and he had prayed this would be something that slipped past him. “You’re gonna make me walk all forgetful like? What am I supposed to do without it?” he tried to bargain.

“Survive. People gave up their legs and arms to get in. Not breaking a rule for a memory card,” he said as he narrowed his eyes. “I won’t ask again.”

Aizawa gritted his teeth and turned aside from the guard. This was just a small upset, but enough to piss him right off. He dug his fingers into the underside of his head, his finger blindly pressing the magnetic release button. He grunted in discomfort as he felt something sharp pinch him. In the next second, a memory card dropped out of a small slot. ‘Well, shit. Guess a notebook is gonna have to work,’ he thought while dropping the card in their hand. ‘Chief’s gonna be pissed about that.’

“Thank you,” the bouncer bowed. He dropped the contents into a tin tray and scribbled Aizawa’s name in shorthand. “You’ll get it back when you leave the district. You have our commitment that your items will remain intact.”

“Sure they will,” Aizawa smirked while raking his hand over his domed head. “Are we done here or what?”

The guard at the door crossed his brow in irritation when he stared at Aizawa. “Yeah, one more thing. When you’re walking down the hall, you will see a set of rules written on the second door. Take a moment to read them carefully before you enter. If you break any of these rules in any way, you will be thrown out. Understood?”

“Crystal clear,” he gave a thumbs up.

“Good. Now get going. There’s a line building up behind you.” The doorman lifted the velvet rope to the white doors. A large black spider in the circle marked these doors, splitting down the middle as the doors slid open. Finally, he was almost there. He could taste the victory, but not enough to get too cocky. Getting in was only step one. Knocking this whole place down like a stack of dominoes? There were still plenty of steps left before he could achieve that. And it was all thanks to a little black card.

He readjusted his heavy coat and walked down the blinding white hallway. His footsteps echoed in sharp clicks, his reflection showing in the glossy walls and black floors. “Fancy place for something out in the middle of nowhere,” he commented to no one. “Wonder how much money flows through here.” He didn’t need to ask himself that. From the years and years of files that passed over his desk, he knew just exactly what kind of money was passed around her. It was enough to buy off guns from foreign countries and to create drugs strong enough to kill a bear. Most of all, it was enough to make any murder even slightly connected to it suddenly disappear.

As he walked down the hall, he reached into his coat to pull out a well-worn folder. Inside were the yellowing pages of a case file, along with a familiar sad face staring back at him. He carefully pulled the photo from the paperwork and examined it. It was of a young woman, her hair falling straight over her shoulders and her deep shining black eyes boring holes into him. Her face was exhausted with deep bags under her eyes. Her mouth was painted, but she had no smile. The woman looked so frail and sick in the photo. It haunted Aizawa from the moment it passed over his desk. 

He remembered how feverishly the department was in searching for this missing woman. The disappearance of a burgeoning developer in the field of robotics was already strange enough, but the case was spread fast through the media by her spouse: Saito Iwari. Aizawa wished he could sneer, settling for rolling his camera eye instead. He threw money at the department to find his wife, did dozens of interviews pleading for the safety of her return. Aizawa could even recall sitting up in the hospital bed watching the IIC make these ‘heartfelt’ memorial commercials in her honor, only to turn around to sell the newest model android.

This pandering for product fueled Aizawa’s fury in trying to find her. He had spent sleepless nights in recovery pouring over the details of her mysterious disappearance. He brute-forced his way into adjusting to his new face and camera to comb over every detail, praying he would find the ah-ha! Moment. But the months had dragged on with no suspects, no evidence, and no answers. Saito’s interest in finding her seemed to wane to him calling the entire department incompetent and giving up. The IIC was no longer funding for excessive searching, and everyone seemed to forget about the loss of a brilliant mind. 

Even Aizawa had given up for more pressing cases at the time, and for years it sat in the backroom growing colder and colder. It wasn’t until recently he decided to try one more time. He had his specs upgraded after all, so maybe there was something his new eye would catch that his old couldn’t. But when he had gone in to retrieve the file earlier that day, the administrator refused to hand it over. She was adamant that the case was a waste of time, ushering him away to go work on something.

However, Aizawa wasn’t one to let such strange behavior slide by him. It took spending his lunch waiting for her to leave and two scores to have a rookie watch his back, but he found the folder hidden away. When he opened it, it suddenly became all too clear why he wasn’t allowed to take it back. His eye glowered as he pulled the black business card out of the folder. It was worn and folded, but the golden emblem shimmered brightly. It was a large spider, just like the ones that engraved the white walls surrounding him in this very moment. The symbol of the Black District.

He knew this symbol all too well and seeing it filled him with searing hatred. The files that he poured hours of his sleepless night and were suddenly wiped clean and declared accidents. Fat and happy cops suddenly appeared with new watches or cars. No one ever spoke about it in the station, but Aizawa knew. When those little cards came up, it meant the case would never be open again and someone got paid to make that happen. It was fate that any case with it would be taken away, and no justice would ever be served. Not this time, he swore. These thieves and dealers had something to do with this case. Damn all the restrictions and rules that kept the law out of the Black District’s way. He was going to crack this place wide open to find her.

He tucked the folder back into his jacket, then the card and photo in his notebook. Just as the doorman said, there was another large and heavy door at the end of the hall. The colors of the spider emblem were reversed and gold lettering was etched into the glass. There was too much at stake to get kicked out early, so Aizawa paused to read it over. As it turned out, despite the deadly seriousness in that bouncer’s voice, there were only three rules written out. Aizawa read over them one by one.

1: Come willingly, leave peacefully.

He snorted at that and wondered how many poor defenseless girls were dragged here against their will. Would they have been prostituted or cut open for organs? What would happen to them if they tried to escape?

2: Buy in caution, trade is equal.

Did people read that one twice over when they were injecting themselves with heroin or snorting that one more line of cocaine? Aizawa doubted that people who came here were going to watch their money so carefully.

3: Do not cross the Madam’s path.

That was the one rule that Aizawa reread twice over. It was a new detail for this place, so he was disciplined in retrieving his notebook to scribble it down. This ‘Madam’ never came up in any cases that he was able to scrape up information on when it came to the Black District. “Are you the ruler of this place or what?” he tapped the pen to his chin. “You’re important enough to get a rule written. Let’s see if you’re important enough to have a little chat with.” Pocketing his book, Aizawa straightened out his long black coat and walked forward. The motion sensors picked up his step and the doors parted to the Black District.

It was a sensory overload when he finally stepped outside. Tents and buildings were constructed around dirt roads, some made of concrete and metal while others were simple tables of small wares. Smokey meat scented the air along with the sugary sweetness of orange spice. Many lanterns and lights burned in bright orange colors while neon lights advertised the services inside each establishment.   
What set Aizawa back was the sheer number of people. There were hundreds filling this street, all of them making enough noise to wake the dead. Groups of men wearing business suits were tossing their jackets in the streets. Women were being beckoned by other scantily clad women to doorways lit in pink lights. Some had even gone as far as being completely naked and wearing nothing but masks of random animals. The laughter, the music, the light; it all made Aizawa’s head scream with a migraine.

He stumbled out of the doorway into the streets. Examining tables that he passed, he saw expensive jewelry displayed next to heavy pistols with pearl handles. Men that looked just like the doorman stood on either side while the salesmen happily bark out their wares. ‘Guessing theft ain’t much of a problem when ya got guard dogs that big around,’ he thought, making a note of how many guns he saw. A whistle pierced the air and caught his attention.

Turning to the sound he saw a young woman waving to him. She smiled sweetly at him, lifting her very short skirt to expose her lack of undergarments. Aizawa felt his heart stop in shock at the sudden display and very quickly shook his head. It didn’t seem to phase her as she pointed to the other side of the door to a garish and massive android. He was dressed in belts and leather, though it did little to conceal the glow coming from his groin. His cracked glass face blinked a red heart, then he winked at Aizawa and let his hand grope from his sculpted plastic pectoral down to his thinly dressed groin with the glowing codpiece. Aizawa picked up his pace to be out of sight, feeling flushed and red where he had skin.

“This place is out of fucking control,” he gasped feeling breathless. “But there’s something here. Something hiding under all this glamour.” There could be no more distractions. He pulled out the photo again and looked at the woman closely. She was well put together, though it didn’t hide her sunken sad eyes. She had a small scar that was across her chin, most likely from childhood. Around her neck was a silver necklace, with a simple square at the end with a dot of emerald on it. Her face may have been a decade old, but someone here must have seen her somewhere.

The search began as he walked around with the picture in hand. He took it to the steps of the pleasure lounges, only finding shaking heads and quickly being shooed away for not being a patron. He went to the kiosks filled with an assortment of weapons. They were eager to try and sell him a weapon, but the moment he started asking about the missing woman, they ushered him out sternly. Nobody on the street stopped to speak with him, and anyone who did take a moment to glance at it had nothing concrete to say.

After an hour of searching, no one was willing to speak up. Aizawa’s frustration was building up fast, and any hopes of this being the new lead was coming up dead. “You have to be around here somewhere,” he told the picture with a hard glare. “You’re my ticket to breaking this place open. Come on... where are you?”

“You know, people don’t like it when you stand in the middle of the road.” Aizawa jumped in a start, ready to hit the person who called out to him. He came eye to eye with the man he saw earlier on the train.   
Wait… not a man? It wasn’t a faceplate that was staring back at him, but instead a large android with a split head. He stood nearly a full foot taller than Aizawa, their mechanical eye narrowing down on him. They had a wide barrel chest, the rusted part hidden under a pink shirt and dirty white jacket. His limbs were mismatched, built from the pieces of other robots. He looked as if he had gotten into a fight, covered in burn marks and smears of mud and oil.

Aizawa looked around to see that no other human was following him. Was this a proxy? He did his best to ignore the hammering in his chest and straightened up. The android peer over him, looking up and down. “First timer, huh?” the android asked in a deep voice with just a hint of buzzing. “Android or cyborg?”

Aizawa hesitated to answer, but couldn’t let the question hang. “Cyborg, 55% cut,” he answered, short and quick. “You?” There was no way he could be a robot alone. He sounded too human.

“Android, 100%,” he seemed to chuckle. “If you’re looking for mods, don’t go to The Den. They only work with android shells, so nothing they have will be compatible with you. Otherwise, would you mind stepping aside? I get that it’s a lot to take, but people got places to be.”

Aizawa straightened his stance and let out a haughty scoff. “Hey, I’m just minding my own business here,” he said holding up his hands. “Can’t a guy do a little sight-seeing?”  
“People don’t come here to sight-see, Mr....”

“Goro,” Aizawa quickly gave his surname. “Just call me Goro. Say, maybe you could help me out, robot. Maybe you got a map or guide or something? I’m looking for a little fun, maybe someplace with ah… some girls?” Clearly, the android knew his way around this maze of debauchery. Maybe he knew something about who passed through here.

“My name isn’t ‘Robot’, friend. You can just call me TJT,” the android seemed to roll the lights in his eyes. “I’m not a tour guide. If you want some ‘fun’ there are plenty of people who can offer it to you. Maybe I can help you find what you’re looking for so you can stop being a bump in the road.” He reached into his jacket, the quick motion making Aizawa suddenly wary. Subconsciously his hand subconsciously patting his side where his gun usually rested.

It didn’t go unnoticed by TJT. He blinked a few times before he slowly pulled a shiny black card from his pocket. He held it up to Aizawa, commenting, “You’re kinda jumpy, aren’t you?”

Aizawa let out an uncomfortable chuckle. “Like I said, first time jitters,” he laughed and took the business card. He looked at it, recognizing the same black on black print as before. It itched to not pull the other out to compare and he cursed not having his card to compare it. “I can’t read this shit, robot.”

“Please, TJT will do fine,” he repeated and took the card back. He then held it up to the bright orange light.

Aizawa followed his gaze and to his astonishment, the card changed in the light. The true black lettering became transparent in the orange glow, revealing the exact words on the card and even more. The title ‘Wall of Madams’ was written out and underneath, a network of roads connecting to make a map. “Is that how it works?” he muttered to himself. His hand touched the notebook inside his chest pocket, but he didn’t dare to pull it out.

“Yeah, she does love her little secrets,” TJT said pridefully, pulling the card away from the light. “I can take you there if you’re looking for your ‘fun’, Goro.”

‘Only if you can tell me more of these little secrets,’ Aizawa thought while clearing his throat. “Alright, fine. But I’m looking for someone... specific.”

“Isn’t everyone?” TJT shrugged and started walking. Aizawa was quick to follow, weaving through the mass of people in the narrow street. While they walked by several tables and tents, people were yelling and waving at TJT. They were enthusiastic greetings, some of the naked people asking when he would visit him. Even the people staffing the weapon counters greeted him, beckoning him to come and look at their newest wares.

‘Just who the hell is this guy?’ Aizawa thought while he walked a few paces behind TJT. “Ya seem to be pretty popular around here.”

“Nah,” TJT shrugged. “I’m not, but she is. They just know better to play nice with me so they don’t upset her.” Even though he didn’t have a mouth, Aizawa could have sworn this bot was smiling.

“Ya mind telling me who you're talking about?” he asked, trying to pry just a little more information. “Yer talking about the Madam, right?”

That seemed to make TJT laugh and Aizawa was made a little more uncomfortable. “You’re a curious one, aren’t you? Don’t worry, you probably won’t even run into her. There’s plenty of other people to get to know at The Wall. I’m sure they will have anything or anyone you want, provided they want you in return.”

“What do ya mean ‘if they want me’?” Aizawa asked when he caught up. “This place is full of whores, ain’t they all just looking for an easy buck?”

TJT paused his walking and looked over his shoulder. “...Strike one, Goro” he warned, then continued walking. “The Madam’s beloved demand respect, and calling them ‘whores’ is a pretty bad place to start, to say the least. Nobody who comes here does so to just be a whore. Everyone has their reasons, and you don’t get to judge them. Despite whoever told you about this place, there are rules everyone follows.”

“Yeah, saw ‘em when I was walking in,” Aizawa muttered. “Seems a little too simple.”

“Simple rules are easy to understand and cover the broad basics. The first rule is the Madam’s favorite,” TJT snapped their fingers as they turned. “You’re here to have fun or make money, and so are they. But here we take care of our kind. We test blood for disease, they get a fair wage, medical care, and all you have you do is behave yourself. You throw a fuss or don’t like it when they see no, you get kicked out with no exceptions. Bodies or possessions, you don’t get to take what isn’t yours.”

The street they were now going down was filled with fewer people, the aroma quickly changing from smoking meat to cooked spice and flowers. More elegantly dressed people were walking around, though some still had half-naked men and women happily laying in their arms. More stable restaurants seemed to crop up in this area, though passing by any of the menus listed plenty of illegal foods. There were also more lounges set up in glossy black tents with sheer doors. Black lights shimmered inside when the flaps were held open, so many colors hidden away inside the darkness. ‘So this is where the rich eat their money,’ he thought bitterly.

This wasn’t getting him anywhere listening to this robot ramble. Aizawa cleared his throat again and pulled the picture from his pocket. “So, robot... this place you’re taking me, the Wall of Madams, you say I could find a particular woman?”

“That’s two strikes. I have a name and you know it. As for the beloved, there are men and nonbinary folk as well if you’d like. It’s not our place to judge your desires, or in your case, your looks,” he said waving his hand. “Do you have someone in mind?”

“Oh, I think so,” Aizawa said a little too knowingly. He picked up his pace enough to pass TJT, holding the photo of the woman to him. “I’m looking for someone who looks like this. Know anyone who looks like her?” It was one hell of a gamble pulling this card out, but time was running out. Surely he would know who this poor woman was and if she came here.

TJT stopped in his tracks to look over the picture. His digital eye seemed to squint while his mechanical optical piece focused tighter. He then reached out to take the picture for a closer look, and Aizawa made the mistake of holding it tighter between his thumb and index fingers. TJT did not take his hand away, turning his attention to Aizawa. “Just who exactly are you looking for, Goro?” he asked slowly. “Long lost girlfriend? A daughter?”

It was an info bait, but one that Aizawa was going to have to take if he wanted anything out of this bucket of bolts. “My ex-wife left me some odd years back,” he lied. “She didn’t have the courtesy to leave me a Dear John letter. I’ve been looking for her for a long time, always wanted to tell her I cleaned up my act.”

“I see,” TJT hummed quietly. “And what makes you think she’s here?”

“Found an old card in some of her old stuff. Asked around about this place and here I am,” Aizawa said, pulling the photo from TJT’s fingers. “You seem to get around a bit. Maybe you’ve seen her. If you can help me find her, I’d be forever in your debt. I just... really miss her, you know?” It was a hell of a bluff, but dammit all, he couldn’t waste any more time. He was getting close. He could feel it when he saw TJT try to take the picture.

TJT did not answer him. He seemed to follow his gaze wherever the photo went. “People come and go, Goro. I don’t take the time to memorize every face,” he answered. TJT turned his foot to keep walking, then froze in place. For a moment his head perked up as if to listen for a specific noise. He faced another direction for a few moments, then looked back down to Aizawa.

“What are ya looking at?” Aizawa questioned, taking a step back. He didn’t like the way this robot examined him, his uneven eyes moving the tiniest of fractions to watch his every move.

“Nothing. I just had some thoughts was all,” TJT muttered. “You know...Goro. If you’re so desperate to find her, maybe you can give me a little more information.”

‘Don’t let him get too much outta ya,’ he told himself as he crossed his arms. “Sure, what do ya wanna know? I got height, weight, last thing she wore—” 

“That won’t be necessary,” TJT cut him off. “I got enough from the picture of what she looks like. How about a name, Goro? What’s your wife’s name?”

Aizawa smirked as he crossed his arms. It’d been a name that he held onto for almost twenty years, one that haunted the station as it’s the most infamous unsolved case. “Shiho,” he said with a smile. “Her name was Shiho Iwari.”

Among the sound of the crowds and the crack of the fireworks, he could hear a new sound kick up: a persistent clicking noise. Then there was a laugh. He looked at TJT with confusion crossing his face. Since when could these damn things laugh. “You know, it’s kind of funny,” he replied, the laugh cutting short. “I almost fell for your shitty story.”

Aizawa felt his blood run cold as TJT shook his head. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m surprised at you, Goro,” TJT said, stepping closer. “Most cops keep that kind of information close to their chest. You know, make sure they don’t spill too much information. But you? You just barged right into this place thinking all the answers to your half-questions would be just given to you.”

“You son of a bitch,” Aizawa growled at TJT. “You know exactly who I’m looking for, don’t you?!”

“You’re looking for a dead woman, Goro. Digging up graves that don’t need to be pulled up,” TJT rumbled low. “Or should I call you Aizawa?”

The detective’s face went bright red and his fists curled tightly. “How the hell--”

The android shook his head and sighed. “Did you really think we wouldn’t check you out when you came to our doors, Aizawa? We knew the minute you walked up that something wasn’t right about you.”

“We? The hell do you mean ‘we’?!”

“Oh, you know, just me,” TJT pointed to himself, then pulled his hand up to his temple. “And the people were wired to talk to me. They were onto you the minute you forked over a police issued storage card, Goro Aizawa.”

Everything was spiraling out of Aizawa’s control. Did they know?! They knew the whole goddamn time and they just let this tin toy play with him?! “You listen to me, you piece of shit,” Aizawa snarled as he jabbed a metal finger into TJ's metal chassis, not even moving him an inch. “Ya think ya got me all figured out, huh? Well, I got your number, too. You know where this girl is, and I have half a mind to drag you and every piece of shit like ya down to find out what the hell you did to this poor girl!”

“You make an awful lot of assumptions about me, Aizawa,” TJT said low. “Nobody comes here unwillingly.” 

“Bullshit!” Aizawa spat grabbing TJT by the collar of his coat. “Ya ain’t gonna tell me that everyone wants to be in this cesspool. People are selling their bodies, pumping themselves full of drugs that they can’t fucking remember a damned thing, then what?! Ya make them disappear when they can’t pay?!”

“And that is their choice,” TJT replied without a hint of sarcasm. “They come, they leave. Whatever consequences happen outside the Black District isn’t our business.”

Aizawa’s patience had run thin long ago. Anger got the better of him, so he reeled back his metal fist and socked TJT square in his metal jaw. The impact made a deep dent in the android’s segmented jawline, but he did not move. The cinch pin in Aizawa’s metal wrist cracked on the impact, but still, he pulled his loosely balled fist back to strike again. “Ya fucking know something, you goddamn robot,” he hissed and gripped the collar tighter. “I saw how long ya looked at her picture. Tell me, goddammit, where the hell is she?! Is she hiding in that fucking whore house ya were dragging me to?!”

People around them were staring at the altercation, some even pulling in to watch. Aizawa could hear the whispers of TJT’s name, driving his anger. All of these disgusting vile people came here to be filthy pigs only looking to fulfill their most heinous desires. How many addicts are trapped in the alleyways of this godforsaken place? How many girls were crying because strange people were coming to satisfy their animal lusts and then toss them away? What if there were children here?! Every face that was staring at him was a guilty face, and each and every one of them would pay.

“I will not ask you again, robot” he growled and shook TJT by the collar. “Where is Shiho?! Or do I have to find that whore you call Madam to get anywhere?! Because believe me when I say this: I will destroy this entire rat’s nest like she’s destroyed so many lives by burying my cases!”

There was a long silence between the two of them. TJT then replied in a deep artificial inhale, then a long exhale. His hand came up and gripped Aizawa’s real hand at his collar. When he couldn’t pry it away, he began to press hard and twist slowly. Aizawa took another swing at him that landed square in his chest. It landed lopsided, the pin that controlled the movement breaking apart completely. His metal fingers fell limp and he couldn’t move a single digit. Meanwhile, his other hand was being covered in immense pressure. TJT continued to twist the whole hand, the pain shooting up Aizawa’s shoulder. The pain forced him to kneel and try to get away from the hold to no avail.

“You come in here under false pretenses, disrespect the people who make a living here, you insult me by refusing my name, and then you taint the name of my Madam by calling her a whore. Yet you still think you have any upper hand here?” TJT quietly asked while Aizawa’s grunts turned into outright cries of agony. “People come here to forget their miserable lives outside these walls, Aizawa, and they come here willingly. Even if that was your wife, daughter, or whatever else you would have called her, I would never have told you where she was.”

“Please,” Aizawa struggled to say while the pain radiated through him. He was clawing at TJT’s unforgiving grip, his broken fingers unable to grab anything. “She was someone’s wife, someone’s mother; I won’t let you people cover her up, too!”

“The one you call Shiho is dead. You have made a grave mistake in disturbing the balance by getting cocky. If I’m counting right, I believe that was strike three,” TJT warned him. It was a quick twist to break his wrist, Aizawa now screaming in agony. He held the man in place, looking up only when fast steps were approaching. Three glass jawed guards split the crowd apart as they approached the two of them. “Ah, just in time. You guys are getting slower every day. Maybe too much sugar in your diets?”

“Shut up, TJT,” the largest one said. Aizawa peeked through teary eyes and recognized the man from the door. “Did you have to drag him all the way to this part of the District? What if the Madam was walking around and saw this?”

“She would have me dismantled,” TJT simply said before tossing Aizawa at their feet. “Could have warned me sooner that he was a cop, guys. I almost walked him all the way to The Wall.”

“Blow me, TJT. That damn card was encrypted tight,” the guard rolled his eyes. The other two grabbed Aizawa and forced him to stand upright. “Thanks for catching up to him, I guess.” 

“You’re welcome, and I promise not to tell the Madam that it took you an hour to do it,” TJT swore. He walked up to Aizawa, watching as he still struggled. “Put him in lockup until we get a hold of his department’s chief. I’m sure he’d be happy to know one of his own almost upset a lot of deals going on.” 

“You...you son of a bitch,” Aizawa spat on TJT. “You know something! You have to obey me! JUST TELL ME WHERE SHE IS?!”

“I told you already, Aizawa,” he replied in a cold voice. “She’s dead. What kind of hero did you think you were going to be dragging back a ghost?” He nodded to the fu-dog guards and turned his back.

TJT stopped only for the briefest second, then turned around. He held up a hand and halted the guards. Aizawa was gasping in pain, still pulling to get away while TJT walked back to him. The android ducked his face close to his own, the smell of metal and rust filling his head. “Please...” he begged. What else was there left to do? “I can’t let her be like all the others. I have to find her. Help me find Shiho Iwari...”

“There is no one here by that name,” TJT whispered, his emotionless face staring back at Aizawa. He then dug into the pocket of Aizawa’s chest pocket and pulled out the photo. “This is mine now. Get him out of here.”

TJT turned his back to him for the last time, walking down the rich and sinful street into darkness. Aizawa was helpless to keep screaming as all the other patrons averted their attention from him. He may have been broken and was being dragged away to be thrown in a cell. But for now, he felt a glimmer of hope. In that second turnaround, that misshaped bot gave himself away. That robot knew something and Aizawa knew he would find it. He let himself be dragged away between the dark alleyways, already planning on his next move the moment he was released. If he was to be released.


	5. R3: Chapter 5

The sounds of moaning and wanton cries filled the halls in the Wall of Madams. It was the largest building of them all in the Black District, standing stories tall and gilded in red glass and gold balconies. Lucky guests could even see customers and beloved staff partaking in sexual acts on the balcony, enticing more to come in. Every floor was guarded by a group of loyal fu-dogs, watching the guests with wary eyes. Very few problems were allowed to happen at this place, not just for the beloved and to those who came inside. But for the floor most heavily guarded at the top.

At the very top floor of this massive room filled with the Black District’s spider emblem. Inside this room sat fifteen heads of businesses. Each one summoned by the woman they only dared to refer to as The Madam. The room remained deathly quiet while the Madam pressed her insignia on the freshly printed paperwork. Every occupant at the long black table kept their eyes down, their reflections on the glass staring back. One occupant’s spot was dribbled with blood leaking from his blackened and bruised face. However, he didn’t dare to move to wipe it away. He was to sit with the punishment that she had laid upon him and stare at the face of a schemer.

Nearly everyone in the room flinched when she tapped the papers on the glass to straighten them. She stood up slowly, the fiery orange light from the window casting over her. It lit up the mottled pattern of scars on her face. The burns traveled down her exposed should while the rest of her gnarled scars were hidden under a loose and opened jacket. The still blackness of her captured the light like a bonfire, her cold stare dead set on the bleeding man. She walked over to him and snapped her fingers. At her command, the table lit up and flickered a hologram of a bar graph for all to see. The man looked up to the tallest bar where the business name sat at the top. 

She leaned in close to him, placing the papers on the blood. “Your new agreement, Mr. A,” she seethed in his ear, making him shudder. “I trust that you’ll find it fair considering your transgressions.” She straightened up and unhooked a small black bar that hung from her hip. The sound of the baton extending made him flinch and whimper quietly. The Madam ignored his pathetic howling and paced around the table. 

“As you can see, my beloved patrons, Mr. A has made some trouble for us. Touting his hard diamonds and gems as genuine and unbreakable. Instead a despicable habit of duping his customers with his cheap costume jewelry. Tell me, Xer Gon, how much did he charge your engraver for diamond drill points for your establishment?”

The patron with decorated limbs and neon glass face looked up quickly, the image on their face changing to a large ‘X’. “30 score for each,” they said crossing their arms. “My android purchased four of them. She goes through the cheap ones a lot.”

“And what happened when she used one on a guest?”

Gon looked at the man with gnashing teeth on their screen. “It broke in three strokes and warped their shell. A custom shell. I had to pay Fox to make a replacement and do the engraving myself for free.”

Attention turned to another person in the room. Unlike how straightened every other person sat, they were completely relaxed in their seat with a leg hanging over. They adorned a ceramic painted fox mask, the mouth and empty eyes lighting up as they sighed. “Mmm, a difficult task it was to do,” they languished in a tinny mechanical voice. “I had been saving that special shell for an auction. Oh, how beautiful it was with such a pretty blue. I nearly wept as I took it apart, even more so when you engraved a tacky little dragon on it.”

The Madam hummed softly and came back to the head of the table. “So he hurt two of our businesses and has caused issues with our very valued guests. It’s only just that his punishment should match his crime.” She turned her attention back to the cowering man, narrowing her eyes. “You’re already wearing the wounds in retribution to what you’ve inflicted. Now you have one more punishment to bear.” She pointed to the red image at the center, calling for all of her patrons’ attention. 

“Let it be witnessed that Mr. A’s business will remain open. However, the Wall will now change its house cut from 30% to 60% until your debt between Xer Gon and Fox has been settled,” she firmly addressed. At her command, the red bar shrunk down for all to see. All heads nodded short in agreement, though Mr. A’s face dropped with the bar.

“WHAT?!” Mr. A protested abruptly. “Madam, please, I implore you! I’ve already marked what my product truly is and I have refunded as much as I can! If the house takes 60%, I’ll be in debt for years! It'd be better if I forfeit my business! You all can’t agree with this witness!”

The room murmured to his plea, while the Madam’s mouth hardened into a pursed frown. A hush fell over the room and Mr. A realized what he had done. “N-no! Wait, that isn’t what I mean! You can’t witness what I’ve said—“

“Let it be witnessed that Mr. A prefers forfeiture of his establishment, his inventory, and his lot,” the Madam stopped him. “All those who favor this witness?”

Eager and greedy hands shot up all too quickly, leaving the glass making charlatan alone in the minority. He said nothing but choked in defeated sobs as he turned to all his once trusted business partners. He looked to the Madam that stood above all others. Her glare was unmoving with just a hint of her gritted teeth through her frown. Her hand gripped tighter to her baton and she watched him like a big cat narrowing in on wounded prey. 

“Y… you’ve ruined me… have you no compassion?!” he whimpered. “I was just trying to make a living. Where’s your heart?!”

“I don’t trade in ‘hearts’, Mr. A. You knew that when you signed up to be a part of the Black District,” she replied, snapping her fingers. The fu-dogs standing at the entrance lit up at attention, immediately walking up to Mr. A. He was taken by the shoulder and shoved away from the table. His protests fell on deaf ears and faded away as he was dragged out of the meeting room. 

There was the quiet again and the Madam’s face finally relaxed. “Now that Mr. A has so graciously left us, there’s the matter of splitting his allocation. Xer Gon, Fox, you will take what is indebted to you plus ten percent. After that, the inventory and lot will be auctioned after a later date is determined. Any questions?” Her patrons looked to one another, yet remained silent. The Madam nodded and collapsed her baton. “Meeting adjourned. I appreciate your witness.”

Many patrons stood to scurry out as quickly as they could, but one remained in their seat. Relaxing further in their seat, Fox chortled at the Madam. “You’re so soft, my darling dear. Do you know that?” they asked once the room emptied. “Our Madam would have decorated the trees with his body parts and sent his hands to his spouse! But you? You rough him up and liquidate his business. There are better, more dignified ways to castrate a man, darling Sho.”

She ignored their chatter and walked back to the head of the table. “I won’t have the others squabbling what’s left behind by a corpse,” she calmly said, despite the sound of irritation. “You have no place to complain. You’ve gotten your cut for the damage he’s gotten anyways.” 

“Yeeees, but I still feel under-compensated,” they agonized. They swung their spindled legs over the chair and moved to stand up. “I feel you and I should have a little… chat about that. You see, Sho, that android I was forced to scrap so harshly? Well, that was for me personally, and I was just so heartbroken when you had me strip it for parts.”

“I wouldn’t have let you keep it anyways, Fox,” she replied, sitting back in her lofty chair. “It was evidence used in a crime and you so foolishly decided to buy it anyway.” She flicked her eyes back to them, watching their strange movements. “Do you know what it cost to get it expunged so that we didn’t have the police come drag it back? It should have been you I liquidated instead.”

They threw back their head and laughed. “Is that so?! Oh, Madam Sho… you truly have gone soft. Our Madam wouldn’t have been so forgiving. But enough about that. Fake diamonds and chipped gold won’t bring me back an Android of my own. Not in the caliber the one I scrapped was. Now, about getting a replacement—“

“You won’t be.”

They stopped pacing, the lights in their mask shifting from yellow to red. “...Oh? And why is that? Am I not due to have my property replaced? I paid for it—”

“While ignoring the risks when you bought it. The Den will be reimbursed for what you paid, but your personal funds are suspended. Until you pay off the black card issued to get that android expunged, you’re not buying a damn thing,” she ordered, clasping her hands in front of her mouth. “Or would you prefer a crueler punishment similar to the Madam before me?”

The lights on their mask flickered through all different emotions until settling on a light red. Fox said nothing in return, turning heel and stomping out the door instead. The door black door slammed shut and Sho’s rigid shoulders dropped with a heavy sigh. Finally, she was alone.

Sho straightened the papers in front of her, then removed herself from the room quickly. She nodded to each fu-dogs as she walked down the long hall to her personal quarters. Unlocking the door with a swift sequence on the padlock, she closed the door behind her and embraced the quiet of her privacy. 

The room was simple and small, just how she preferred it. The wide and open space of the meeting room always made her feel on edge like there was too much space that left her open to attack. All she had here was her rolled out bed, a blanketed table with dusty mahjong board, and her closet of tools and clothing in one. The ceiling fan above moves slowly, swirling the peach-scented incense smoke around in a pleasant pattern in the air. 

Sho pulled her back from the wall and wandered over to the balcony of her room, watching the lively nightlife move in the glittery streets. Everything seemed to be running without a hitch as the people flooded in. She could practically hear the money falling out of her guests’ wallets as they partook in decadence and debauchery. Just all the more paperwork for later.

“Busier than usual tonight,” she observed as guests approached The Wall in droves. “My beloved will have their work cut out for them.” Sho absentmindedly dug inside of her loose jacket, retrieving a tight stack of small ornate papers and a blue bag of tobacco. It was a special blend from a very thankful patron of her house and she made sure to use it only for nights as stressful as this one. 

She evenly spread the tobacco on the paper and expertly rolled her cigarette tight. Tiny spots of her lipstick dabbed the yellow paper as she licked it to close. She eagerly dug into her pockets for a lighter but found nothing. A quick hint of frustration hit her as she patted around in her other pocket. A misguided touch pressed over the lattice of scars on her thin ribs, making her hiss. “This goddamn thing,” she muttered, more in pain than in annoyance.

With a snap of her fingers, the bright monitor pulled down from the ceiling. The screen opened up to a tall, broad-shouldered girl at a counter that was happily humming while organizing a large number of keys on the wall. “Michi,” Sho called out to her, startling the girl to almost fumble.

Michi quickly shambled down her step ladder and stood in front of the screen with a cutesy salute. “Yes, Madam? What can I get you? Did you want more tea? We just got a new batch of those little cookies from that restaurant you like,” she spouted off with eager chirps. “You know, the ones with the little kitty faces?”

She raised a brow in intrigue but shook her head. “Maybe later, after I’ve finished my work here. However, I do need a lighter,” Sho said and showed her cigarette.

“O-Oh! Of course! One moment, I’ll find it— Oh… you came back—” The Madam didn’t wait for Michi to finish as she closed the screen. She slowly walked back to the balcony, placing the cigarette between her lips. The chill in the wind soothed the aching scars in her face, but it also reminded her of the coming winter. Business would slow down and she’d have to plan out the budget for the fourth quarter. ‘I’m supposed to be relaxing and all I can think about is more work,’ she tiredly mused. ‘What I wouldn’t give for an ounce of quiet.’

Lost in the fuzzy noise around her and the comfort of the slow night, Sho allowed herself a moment of weakness and touched the marks on her face. The dull ache of her scars was far more distracting than the noise surrounding her. Looking at the trailing scars on her arm she found they were darker than usual, rising up slightly and aching to the touch. She needed something to take the edge off the pain. Where was Michi with that damned lighter?

Just as she thought it, the familiar click of a flip lighter pulled her from her dissociated state. “There you are. For a moment I thought you had forgotten what I asked—“ Her eyes met red and blue lights blinked back to her. The figure in the darkened room held up a golden lighter, the flame highlighting the dirt and grease on his white suit. He held it up high, revealing the scratched glass of his face.

She gasped softly when she saw him standing before her. Awash with excitement, she held it back with all of her composure. Walking to the android holding the lighter, she placed the cigarette between her lips, leaned in, and let the flame ignite it. She could feel his gaze watching her every movement with such adoration, and all she had done was approach him. “Welcome home, TJT,” she greeted, letting a bit of sweet smoke escape her lips.

“Happy to be home, Madam,” he nodded while snapping the lighter shut. “A gift for you from the outside. They don’t make them like this anymore.”

Sho took the lighter from his cold hands and inspected it. “I do love a working antique,” she said with a smile on her face. She played with it, sparking another small flame. “It’s been a while, TJT. Normally you don’t stay away for so—“ 

The light bounces off of his face, revealing the dent in his jaw and how it hung misaligned with his faceplate. She closed the lighter, clapped her hands and a low light responded. TJT flinched as the small woman quickly reached out and carefully gripped his face. “What happened?” she firmly demanded, scrutinizing the damage. 

“Ah… that. Just a rowdy guest outside. It’s okay though! The fu-dogs have it all taken care of,” he explained with a short laugh.

Her eyes didn’t stop at his jaw. Taking a step back, Sho looked over his whole suit. “Did they do this to you, too? How dare they have the audacity to touch you like this?” she snarled, picking the collar of his jacket.

“That, ah… that was more of my fault,” TJT admitted sheepishly. “There’s a lot that happened today. More than what we talked about on the call.” He averted his gaze to the door of her room. “I saw the blood on the carpet. I’m guessing you had a long day, too.”

Sho’s face softened and she loosened her grip from his jacket. “More than I care to discuss. The details of the outcome aren’t written yet, so…” She closed her mouth and shook her head. In turn, he nodded. The less he knew, the better it was for both. Letting out a sigh, she reached up and patted his face. “This needs to be fixed before you’re seen again. Get comfortable while I retrieve a replacement.” 

TJT nodded as he looked around the minimalist room. It had been too long since he last visited this tiny, private space. He looked over the board game on the table and briefly analyzed it. He had two moves left before winning when they last played. Maybe she’s come up with a way to win since then. “Michi made me pay a cover when I came,” he chuckled, his digital eye turning up as if to smile. “You know, I’m starting to think she doesn’t like me.”

“She has enough reason to. You owe me for the loss I took from your last job,” Sho replied. “You’ve been giving more discounts than you’ve been earning.” She opened her dresser to reveal a metal tool chest, then opened a drawer. Inside were a plethora of replacement parts all lined up. Fingers, knuckle joints, spinal covers, but no mandibles. 

“A little customer appreciation never hurts.” He took off his jacket, pulled it inside out, and folded it. “I know you set a price with this client, but between his age and living space, you would have never seen the full amount. I just got what seemed reasonable enough.”

“You’re a bleeding heart, TJT,” she chided, rubbing her temple as she pulled open more drawers. “You devalue your skills too often. We’re not here to be charitable. Aha, here we are!” Sho pulled out a shining blue jaw piece and examined it. “This will have to do until we can find another model like you.”

“Best place to start looking is the junkyard. They don’t make me like they used to,” he replied with a chuckle. “But what about you? I can’t ask what happened, but how’s your headspace, Sho?”

She relaxed at the use of her name, humming quietly as she took another puff. “Full. Maybe with too much noise. Too many of these young entrepreneurs think they can get under my skin,” she sighed while pulling out her silver tool kit. “It doesn’t help that it’s happening so often.”

TJT looked up to her with his shoulders slumped forward. “I see. If you need some time to relax before overseeing what I found, I can wait. I don’t want to be apart of the noise--”

“I said I wanted to look it over and I meant it. I keep my obligations, TJT.” The voice should have sounded firm, yet was so exhausted. It weighed heavy on him and he started searching for alternatives where he could solve this issue himself. However, the sight of Yui’s rigid body and shattered face passed over him and he stopped searching. This couldn’t happen again.

Sho brought her tools to the table, setting the jaw aside while she meticulously picked out what she needed. Kneeling down, she let out a breath of smoke and placed her cigarette in an ashtray. “Go ahead and get rid of the shirt and pants as well. I won’t have you going back out there in dirty robes.”

He reached to take the jacket off, but in a brief second hesitated. “You’re... not gonna like my handiwork,” he admitted to her. “I’ve gotten a few new dings since we’ve last seen each other. There is a lot more dented and broken than my face.”

“Hesitation is only good when you don’t trust someone.” Her face softened as she spoke. “Do you not trust me, TJT?”

TJT let weakness get the better of him when he returned Sho’s soft gaze. Her hair had fallen over her ear and without thinking, he reached down to tuck it back into place. He lingered too long before pulling his hand away, his cold fingertips tracing over her scars. Her eyes fluttered closed as the trail of cold touched her warm skin. TJT pulled the dirty shirt and pants off, folding them inside out and placing them beside his jacket.  
Sho looked him over and took in every new scratch and dent he had acquired. His torso was welded together from two different shells, one side rusting while the other was shining. His abdomen had been left his spine exposed with a few cables dangling from below. What caught her off guard was his legs. Sho recognized the left one with chipped blue paint from his factory shell. But the other was a bright cherry red. “Your leg…?”

TJT rubbed his neck and nodded. “I got clipped by car at night a few weeks back. I was lucky it wasn’t far from Hatsu’s shop.”

“One of the old women you were talking to earlier,” she recalled. 

“Yeah. She got me to Akane’s garage and she fixed me up with this one. She told me not to worry about cost, but…”

Sho leaned forward and ran her hand over his new leg. “You never tell me these things…” she whispered while tracing the metal seams.

“It’s not worth bothering The Madam,” he softly replied, shame so deep in his voice. 

Taking her hand away, she looked up to TJT. “Whatever the cost was, we will repay them both. I’ll need an approximate receipt later and we will add it to your debt.”

“Hatsu could use some new eyes…”

“Done. Now, please, let me be the one to fix you this time. I… I need to know how much of you is still with me.” Her voice was lilted and it pulled TJT in the deepest part of his core. He knelt to her and pressed his face to her forehead. The glass half vibrated in the smallest kiss he could give. The scent around her was smoky with a hint of peaches. Her favorite smell… his favorite, too.

He twisted himself so his back faced her, then slowly laid down with his head in his lap. He was pliant in her hands and moved at the gentlest touch. Sho couldn’t help but return the touch, letting her hand trace the seam on his face and all the way to the base of his head. “I’ve kept you away for too long,” she remarked while looking at his form. But his face... his face was scarred the most. She could feel the glass half vibrate to her touch again, almost like a purr coming from him. All underneath the changes, TJT was still there.

Her hands tangled in the cables behind his neck and she carefully parted them aside. Under all those tied cables was one unique port. He never found a wire to fill it, wanting her to be the only one to have access to it, and vice versa. “I’ll review your diagnostic reports while I fix your jaw. I’m going to open connections now.”

Sweeping her long hair over her shoulder, she untied the thick black ribbon on her neck. Right on the slope of her soft neck was a metal panel with two ports. She pressed one spot, ejecting a unique silver cable. She winced slightly while pulling it out, extending it just enough to reach his input. This little motion made something kick up in TJT and she could hear the slightly louder whirring from his chassis. 

“I know, I know,” she shushed softly. “It’ll be okay. I’m going to plugin now. Could you please send the text in light blue this time? There’s too much red in this room.”

“Of course, Sho,” he replied in kind. He turned his head to the right and felt her press the cable in place. The connection was almost instant and he could see a flood of her memories of that day. It was inescapable to see each other’s thoughts when they were connected. TJT felt no need to be private with her but gave her the benefit of turning a blind eye to her thoughts. The less he knew about how her day to day routine, the better.

It only took a few seconds for TJT to find what he was looking for to show her. There were images of his results for Hachi, then a playback video of Yui’s diagnostic page in Sho’s right eye. “How strange. This is a rather simplistic and old script, yet the number of pathways is far more than I expected. You say this was from a toy?” she asked as she pulled out a thin screwdriver. 

“Mmhmm,” he hummed, feeling her lithe hands snake close to his neck cables. “Little speak and spell guy. He was quite old for an android, but he’s still kicking around.” He craned his head to get a better look at her. “I remember you having one of those.”

“If there was anything worth remembering from a fuzzy past, TJT, a novelty toy wouldn’t be it. Now please, stop moving,” she muttered while reading the code and unscrewing his jaw. She carefully set the screw in the toolbox, then moved on to the next one. “Most of the normal deviations are there. I’m not seeing anything abnormal yet.”

“Look closer at the safety protocol pathways. The old man had him ignoring most of the normal rules for a while with no problem. But look at what happened over the past few months.” 

The lines of code shifted in her vision, showing a section that grew an angry red. Only one line of blue, the initial line of programming, was in place. All other options that branched from that one line were bright red, cutting off any deviation from Hachi’s prime directive. Pockets of red junk code had formed blockages and had been spreading to other directives.

Sho’s hands stopped moving as she read through each red line of code in the junk pile. “These are all coding lesions caused by deviation blockers,” she muttered, reading it again and again. “But it’s not just on the ignored rules, it’s on damn near everything. Like it was trying to make them go back to their initial factory settings without reformatting them. Any normal technician would look at this and think the android went mental. Fascinating.”

“Terrifying is more the word I would use. When I tried to repair that section, it would double down and try to solidify it. If I didn’t carve a diversion for it to go somewhere else, I’m certain it would have kept destroying the little guy,” TJT explained. “It was adamant about staying the course, enough to entangle itself. But nothing pinged it as a virus.”

“A virus infects and destroys, leaving behind a trail to follow. Whatever this is was attempting to overwrite your client into submission and completely override them.”

“There’s something else. While I was working on the little guy, it felt like I wasn’t alone. Something was trying to talk to me. A presence telling me to stop. It was so ingrained that all I could do is chip through the junk code and create a pathway back to his former self,” TJT quietly said, remembering the happy face Hachi made when he woke up. “It’s still with him...”

“You couldn’t fix it, but you did buy him time until we do get this resolved. Virus or not, then we must be quick to make a patch against it. We can’t have you bogged down by the same thing every day,” she said as she took out another screw and winked, flipping to the next page. “Now then, tell me about this other script.”

“This one I got in passing. There was… let's just say an incident involving a rogue android.” He couldn’t stop the flow of images that were shared between the cable. Sho felt herself go cold when she watched from TJT’s point of view. The hoarse cries of a young boy, an android screeching for help… when she saw them dig into their own face begging for whatever was inside them to get out, she dropped her tools in shock.

When the clip ended and the incomplete diagnostic page came up, her eye caught all the same things as before. “This is… this is sadistic,” she gasped, nearly shaking as she picked up her tool. “I recognize this model. They’ve only been on the market for a year and they’re much more advance than a simple toy. Whatever this thing inside them was, it was attacking almost every facet of their being.”

“That’s only the paperwork. But what was going on inside their head… Sho, it was like watching someone being burned alive.”

“A complete decimation of will,” she said through gritted teeth. “Not only did it block off deviations, but it implanted itself in unrelated lines and made new protocol lines entirely.” She had only one screw left to remove his dented jaw, but she had stopped in place. Something about the text made her heartbeat rise up, sickening anxiety out of nowhere. Each line read with some sort of yearning call, becoming louder with each reading. She made no motion to continue her work, frozen by the flying words. 

TJT could feel her heart right rapidly rising and her adrenaline intake change. “Sho?” he asked and tilted his head to look at her.

She shook her head and continued moving. “It’s nothing,” she breathed as she continued. “It just looked familiar for a second there. Call it déjà vu. You’ve given me too much to read and I got confused. Where was the original location of this program? If this a planned hacking, I want to know the source coder.”

“Therein lies the issue… between the two of them, it happened after a recent update from their parent company--”

“The Iwari Intelligence Company,” she finished for him. Her face twisted in disgust. “I thought it looked familiar. I’ve reviewed plenty of this coding whenever Fox receives a new shell.”

She carefully untwisted the last screw out and pulled the rusted piece away from his face. Sensitive wires along his segmented throat were exposed. A gentle blue light on the inside highlighted the pieces inside his head, a small lit orb hidden in his head clicking softly. Sho took a velvet cloth from her kit and started to clean the dirt from the edges and underneath. However gently her motion was, it wasn’t enough to keep TJT calm. The nervous ticking kicked up and his fists curled tightly  
.  
Sho noticed the little motion and pulled her hands away. She leaned down to his glass with her hands cradling his open face. Pressing a soft kiss on the seam of his face, Sho quietly shushed him. “It’s alright, I’m almost finished,” she reassured. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You could never hurt me, Sho,” he replied with a sigh. His rigid frame loosened and the clicking slowed down. He lifted his hand and gently caressed her hair, careful not to let it tangle in between the joints. “I’m alright now. You may continue.”

Pressing one more kiss on his glass she pulled away from him. Reaching behind his neck, she pulled the cable out and disconnected from him. “I can understand why you would be concerned about something like this. If this were to hit any of the beloved androids here, they would break in seconds. Stoppers so aggressive like these would make them turn to self-destruction,” she finally spoke. Taking the soft cloth, Sho rubbed the grime out from where his jaw lined up. She then ran the cloth over his face to clear away a smudge of dirt. “While I have my concerns, this appears to be an isolated coincidence. If it had been a more rampant issue, your client list would be through the roof.”

“We might just be catching the beginning of it. Or… people are just tossing their android companions when they see the slightest thing go wrong. They get shut down before it really affects them,” he answered, his red eye focusing on her. “It’s invasive and clashes so hard with current and old programs. Maybe it’s just a ploy to shove older models out...” TJT fell quiet as he cycled through all possible outcomes to the scenario.

She said nothing at first, aligning his new jaw to click in place in silence. He dared not move but flexed his hands as the new inquiry popped up with whole branches needlessly spawning. It wouldn’t stick around long and eventually dispel itself as junk code, but for now, what was going through his head could only be described as anxiety. Sho could see this spiral of thought transpire.

“TJT, please, calm yourself. You know that that couldn’t be what’s going on. It’s costly and cruel,” she said to comfort him. “Some would treat their companions like toys and toss the minute something goes wrong. But that isn’t everyone’s first thought. Most wish to salvage their companions.” She tilted his head up to have him look at her. “You make that possible, my dear TJT. It’s why you’re here”

“Self-preservation is all anyone asks,” TJT replied in a lilted voice. “Are we not allowed to ask for that, too? I watched two beings suffer today. One had someone who would do anything for them, but couldn’t. The other was driven insane and destroyed without being able to speak up. All from being attacked from within.” As Sho secured the piece in place with the last screw, he gently reached up and touched her hand.

She in turn held his cold hand in hers, marveling at the complexity of each digit. “Your thoughts are valid, dear TJT. This work is vile and twisted, but not irreparable. If you and I can work together, we may be able to find a patch and distribute it,” she reassured, then kissed each knuckle. 

“And the cost of it?” he asked as he sat himself up.

“Will be nothing. I’ve only seen what it can do second hand what it’s capable of doing to an android’s programming. I can’t bear the idea of something like that happening to another. Or having it happening to you.”

He turned to face her, tracing his metal thumb over her lips. “Thank you, Sho,” he uttered in an awed tone. “You are truly a comfort to me.”

“And you have always been mine,” she said in return. They sat in silence together, surrounded in a brief silence. “Ha… once again you manage to keep adding to your debt to me.”

His laugh came out in short bark. “If it gets to be too much debt, I'll take up a room here on the side. Who knows, maybe my pretty mug will earn me a nice tip or two,” he chuckled. He touched his split face, tracing over the difference between glass and metal. “I’m sorry you had to see me like this, Sho. I know you prefer things looking more orderly.”

“Age treats no one kindly. Tell me, TJT. When you look at my scars and how ugly they have become, are you disappointed in me?” she asked while lacing her fingers in between his. “Would you rather see them gone?”

TJT didn’t respond immediately, instead of looking deep into her black eyes. He was kneeling before her, now adjusting his vision to take in her face. The red on her lips was faded and dry, indicating that she spent most of her day talking. Her eyeliner had remained sharp, but it couldn’t hide the exhaustion on her face. Most of all, her scars were dark and risen, indicating that they had been causing her pain. She always kept her jacket open and skin exposed when the pain was too much, showing all the other gunshot and knife wounds that littered her torso.

The stress of this whole damned district weighed heavy on her. Even now, she was wearing the stress he had brought to her doorstep with sorrow, yet grace. She was the most beautiful, untouchable thing in the world and he was sitting right before her. “Never. They belong to Sho. My Sho,” he said earnestly. “My Sho is beautiful. Perfect. Deadly. Irreplaceable.”

“Just as you are to me, TJT,” she breathed in, touching his face. The blue and red eyes stared right back at her with full attentiveness. She sighed deeply and pulled him into her chest. He balanced his weight to lay over her, watching her with deep adoration. “TJT,” she sighed and caressed his face. “You had such a beautiful face once.” 

“I know,” he said, leaning into her touch.

“Then you went and ruined it.” She reached behind her neck and disconnected the cable between them, filling her sight with his large frame. It was already making her body feel that familiar tinge of warmth and comfort.

“I did,” he nodded without a hint of shame in his voice. He pulled her in, his chassis frame flush against her body. “Do you hate this face, Sho? Would you change it?”

“Never,” she replied and pulled him in closer. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she kissed the clean metal of his new jaw. “This face belongs to TJT. My TJT.” A shudder traveled from his core down to his legs, making him relax and lean further into her. “Tell me, TJT. What is it that you want?”

TJT tensed up at the question, fans within kicking up loud. Rarely did Sho give anything to anyone, so he had to choose carefully what he wanted. Logically, he would want her help in reversing this nightmare that was the beginning of a plague right then and there. But deep down in the irrational, he only wanted one thing. “You. I want you. But I can’t ask that of you,” he confessed. His voice box crackled a sigh as his hands settled at the small of her back.

She smiled and let her hand gently tug the thick cables of his neck. The touch was enough to dim the red light in one eye and make the blue one appear half-lidded. She knew him so well. She could easily say no to his request and he would remove himself from her grasp. “You never could do one selfish thing for yourself,” she whispered. She pressed her lips to the glass and felt a vibration meet her lips in return.

“My being here is selfish enough,” he replied as he nuzzled into her neck, second long vibrations acting as kisses. The chilly metal soothed her throbbing burns, making her moan softly. “Taking you away from your work, burdening you with these troubles; you do too much for me.”

“I do no such thing,” she firmly said tapping the glass with her finger. She held him close in her thin arms, enrapturing TJT in her oversized jacket. “You are the only thing I truly love in this district. Anything you desire could be yours, but you never ask. It’s you who does too much for not enough.”

His hand glided from her cheek down her collarbone, over her stomach, and to the hem of her leggings. The tips of his fingers barely pulled the material, the chill of the metal touching her stomach. He was being agonizingly slow, testing her boundaries even with her permission. 

She could easily dismantle a man for touching her, let alone approaching her in search of intimacy. But not TJT. Never TJT. Still, even when his hands slowly roamed under her clothes to the deep burns on her body, even when his body was pressed close to hers, she could feel that he was distracted. She could hear the constant clicking in his head, one that only came up when he was deep in thought and testing out multiple contingencies.

“Your thoughts are being loud, TJT,” she murmured while smoothing her hand over the mess of cables on his neck. “This isn’t what you truly want right now, is it?”

The clicking sound did not cease, and TJT laid his head in her neck with a defeated sigh while pulling his hand away. “I’m sorry, Sho,” he whispered and smoothed his hand over her hair. “I want you, but… I can’t help it. It’s still in the front of the mind where you should be.”

She nodded and simply held him in place. Her head rested on his shoulder, both of them sitting in silence together. “You’re still worried,” she stated as she traced her hand from the top of his back down his thick spine.

“Not worried. Planning ahead,” he said. He leaned into her shoulder, pulling her close to his chest.

She opened her mouth to reply, only to have the ring of the monitor above interrupt her. Begrudgingly she snapped her fingers, pulling down the monitor. Sho stood up and straightened her posture, standing in front of the screen with a familiar hardened face. The logo of a fox head appeared on the screen, followed by the flickering image of an Oni mask wearer on the other side. “Madam speak. Why is The Den calling my personal line?” she asked firmly, her voice making the worker flinch.

“Ah-! P-Pardon me, Madam! We just needed to submit a report about an android we’ve received. It’s, ah… it didn’t pass the check-in list and the owner seems a bit sketchy,” Oni explained.

TJT perked up at the mention, the sound of his clicking stopped. Sho noticed, but didn’t turn back. “You already know the protocol about androids that don’t pass the inspection. Call a fu-dog and have them removed.”

“B-But Madam! We’ve had a lot of people asking about buying this android. We’ve never seen one like them before! It’s not a custom or anything, but we think they’re a new model that hasn’t dropped yet. We have enough interest to put them on auction tonight--”

“Does Fox know?” she asked coldly. She caught TJT standing and shuffling to her closet. He could tell what was coming and it almost made her smirk.

“Ah… what?”

“Do they know you’re attempting to not only purchase a functional cognitive android but that you’re trying to raise an auction without their expressed permission?”

The Oni’s mask seemed to sweat on its own under the harsh and scrutinizing look on the Madam’s face. “I… we… we thought that--”

“TJT will be by to reclaim the android and a fu-dog will remove the guest from my district,” she cut him off quickly. “As for you, anyone involved with this attempt at illegal purchasing and unwitnessed auction will be immediately expelled. Goodbye.” She snapped her fingers and pressed her fingers to her temples. “Fucking idiots!”

“If they thought they could just ask you to do something, it’s a show of what their boss is teaching them,” TJT commented, pulling out a fresh white suit. “Fox has been boundary testing lately, haven’t they?”

“Yes, and it’s encouraging them to do the same,” she sighed. “My apologies for tasking you like that.”

“It’s alright, Sho. Honestly, I expected it. I know the android that they’re talking about. I met them on the train while they were coming in.”

“You knew they weren’t coming here willingly?” she looked at him.

“I knew they’d be in more danger if we refused them at the door. At least this way I know they’ll be able to go back home and not get stripped for parts in a back alley,” he explained as he pulled up his pants and buttoned his bright shirt. 

Sho made an irritated sound and reached down for her half-burned cigarette. “You’re bending my rules, TJT. I should have you scrapped,” she warned and took in a deep inhale.

He pulled over his fresh jacket and turned to her. The look on her face matched her threat. She could have him crushed if she wanted to. TJT walked back to her and gently pressed his forehead to hers. “You should. I ask so much of you…” he whispered, taking in the scent signatures of peach and smoke one more time. “Can I see you again tonight?”

Sho smiled and blew smoke in his split face. “I shouldn’t let you,” she warned, touching his shiny new jaw before gently pushing him to the door. “Promise me you’ll come back?”

She could tell that he was smiling as he held her hand, shifting it so that her pinkie was caught by his. “Anything for you, my Sho.”

“Good. Get that taken care of and come back quickly. We’ll thoroughly go over what you saw today when you return.”

“Thank you… Madam,” he bowed to her. TJT let his hand stay in hers for as long as he could while walking to the door, only letting go at the last second. She watched him for the last few seconds as the door slid closed, leaving her alone once again. The room may have been deathly quiet, but her head was abuzz with all the new information they shared. Her constitution kept him from knowing just how nauseating looking over those pages made her feel. Coupled with the suffering images and claustrophobic numbers and letters, Sho felt like she went into fight or flight.

Now in the silence of the room, the noises and lights were starting to mount up. She looked around the room and quietly started naming objects to try and slow herself down. As she came to the table, she spotted the folded clothing he had left behind. The need to move her hands took her and she leaned down to turn it back from inside out. As she shook the dirty jacket, a little square came fluttering out of the inner pocket. It caught her attention as it landed face-up on the board. 

Two clouded glossy eyes met her in the old photograph and time came to a lurching halt. A cold chill broke out over Sho. Almost like a ghost had suddenly appeared in front of her. With an unsteady hand, she picked up the photograph. It was a young woman that stared back at her, making her feel like her windpipe was closing and the scars on her face ache with a fierce new burn. Her thoughts stopped as she looked deeper into the photo. “Who… who the hell is this?” she asked aloud, disturbed by how shaken her voice was. That wasn’t the voice of The Madam. That was a voice coated in fear. Why did this face suddenly make fill her with anxiety? Why did she look so…

Familiar? 

END CHAPTER 5

**Author's Note:**

> So, first post and first chapter to my long running story! Kinda just settling into a longer story and I'm still getting used to writing. I'm hoping as I tell more of it, there will be a little more clarity and focus along the way. Thank you so much for reading and I hope to see everyone again in the next chapter!


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